


Not Too Insane For You

by AmarahOsiris



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dark, Dean and Sam both have their hearts broken, Dean is a Doctor, Death, Demonic Possession, Demons, Demons Are Assholes, Doctor Sam Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam, Eventual Smut, F/M, GIFs came from Tumblr and are NOT MINE, Graphic Violence, Heartbeats, Hurt Sam, Hurt Sam Winchester, John Winchester is a Cop, Major character death - Freeform, Mary Winchester is a Nurse, Murder, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Patient Reader, Protective Sam Winchester, Reader is Sam's Patient, Reader is a psych patient, Reader is a psychopath, Sam Blames Himself, Sam Winchester/Reader - Freeform, Sam Winchester/You - Freeform, Sam is a Psychiatrist, Sam is persistent, Some Fluff, Supernatural Elements, The Winchesters are not hunters, Triggers, Tumblr: oneshoeshort, cardiophile, eventual pairing, its gonna get bad, lots of death, reader is stubborn, very dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 17:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 65,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11407545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmarahOsiris/pseuds/AmarahOsiris
Summary: Dr. Sam Winchester is a forensic psychologist who specializes in the criminally insane committed for life at a local asylum in Lawrence, Kansas. The reader killed her entire family and then burned down her childhood home to cover the evidence. She was recently found not guilty by reason of insanity and ordered by the court to be committed to the asylum for the rest of her life. Dr. Winchester is assigned the reader’s case and his primary goal is to help her work through her issues so that she can come to terms with her crimes and underlining mental illness. But when his continued interactions with her ultimately lead to him falling in love with her, it puts his career in dire jeopardy. Will Sam choose to follow his career path as it was meant to be? Or will he choose to follow his heart?





	1. New Beginnings: Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is gonna be a back story to Sam and his family. Next chapter will be the reader’s backstory and how she got where she is. Seeing how this is an AU, I think this is an appropriate way to start off the series.

If you asked Sam’s older brother Dean about the year 1983, he’d tell you he wished the Earth would’ve disintegrated that year, particularly around May 2nd. He swears everything was right in the world in 1979 and it could’ve ended with no regrets. Of course Sam knew that he was a dumbass because the world ending meant Dean would be gone too, as well as their mother and father. Idiot. But if you asked Sam’s mother Mary and father John about 1983, they’d tell you it was one of the best years in their lives because Mary gave birth to their second healthy baby boy.

  
Sam had a relatively nominal childhood. Dad was a rookie cop for Lawrence PD working his way up in the ranks while Mom stayed home to raise him and Dean. He got to do everything a normal young boy wanted to do. He went to school, played soccer and basketball, got good grades, and enough friends to make any kid feel wanted. His older brother wanted to be perceived as the ‘bad boy’ of the class. He tried to play pranks and do mischievous little boy things, but being the son of a cop, that didn’t exactly work out in his favor. It only took one phone call from the principal for Dean to get his ass handed to him by John for his short-lived career as a bad boy to end.

  
Sam always had a knack for helping others. Especially helping others with problems that weren’t always clear to see. It seemed to be in his nature. When he was 12 he’d caught wind of one of his classmates saying she was ‘being told’ to kill herself because ‘my dead sister is lonely’. Not only did he managed to talk her out of jumping off the roof, he convinced her to talk to the principal about getting professional help. He really didn’t want her to die, but more than that, he was interested in a mentally disturbed person’s thought process. What makes them do the things they do on a psychological level? How did their perception of what they believed to be reality clash with what actually was reality?

  
His brother wasn’t so different, except he got excited when he saw one of his classmates fall off the monkey bars at recess and break his arm. A pretty nasty compound fracture, no less. Dean was the first one to run over and help the poor kid up, but upon seeing his arm all banged up, he ran all over the playground to try and find a splint. But not before he tried, and failed because a teacher thought he was bullying him, to set his arm bone back in place.

  
So it wasn’t a shock to either of their parents when they both said they wanted to go into the medical field. Sam had his heart set on something psychology related, while Dean fancied the emergency medical side. When Dean got a full ride to Stanford’s medical school, Sam was inspired to apply after he graduated from Lawrence High School as his class’ valedictorian. John and Mary weren’t surprised at all when he not only got accepted into the program, but was also offered a full ride. When Sam and Mary took a trip to California and ultimately toured the campus, Sam had a hard time deciding if he wanted to be a doctor…or a lawyer.

  
“Well Sammy,” Mary said, “you do have a full ride. You can pursue anything you want here. Stanford is an excellent school. There’s no stopping you from fulfilling your educational dreams.”

  
Sam decided he could have his cake and eat it too. He chose to become a forensic psychologist. Working within the criminal justice system as a licensed medical professional. He knew he had a lot of schooling ahead of him to acquire all of the licenses and degrees necessary to be what he wanted to be. Right around the time Dean was finishing up his internship at Douglas County Regional Medical Center and working towards residency in the ER, Sam finally earned his final degree. He walked across the stage, dressed in his cardinal and white cap and gown, his parents the proud witnesses to his accomplishments. He was no longer just Samuel Winchester. He officially became Dr. Samuel Winchester, MD. He had a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in Psychology, and minors in forensic science and psychiatry.  
Shortly after the graduation celebrations ended, Sam was packing up his studio apartment in Palo Alto and heading back to Lawrence, where he’d caught wind of an psychologist opening at the local asylum. He wanted to have a long distance relationship with his girlfriend Jessica Moore, who was a nursing major with one more year left to go, but she didn’t want that. She wanted him to stay in California with her. But they just never saw eye to eye on it. So they decided to mutually end their relationship. It was tough at first, but he knew it was for the best for both of them. Sam knew if he went back to Lawrence, he’d never see her again anyway. And she knew that. Why else would she want him to stay in Cali?

  
Driving into city limits of his hometown was like a breath of fresh air. He’d always loved how beautiful and free being in California felt, but like the movie lines go, “there’s no place like home.”


	2. New Beginnings: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter showcases our reader’s background and upbringing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: LOTS OF ANGST, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, DEPRESSION, REJECTION, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, MURDER DETAILS, HOUSE FIRES, CRIME SCENE DETAILS. BE SAFE, DEAR READERS!

  _My name is Y/N L/N. I’ve lived all over the country, but I consider Chicago, Illinois to be where I’m from. My mom’s name is Jennifer and she’s an accountant. My dad’s name is Frank and he is a retired Marine, having served in Desert Storm twice. I have two little brothers named Alan and Jimmy. They’re twins and 5 years younger than me._

  
_And I murdered all four of them while they slept._

  
_Then I burned down my childhood home to cover my tracks. You know, because that always works._

  
_But it wasn’t me. I SWEAR IT WASN’T ME!_  
_It was him….._  
_Why doesn’t anyone believe me?_

* * *

  
Growing up for you wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows but you and your family always made the best that life threw at you. Being a Marine brat, you moved around a lot. Base to base, city to city, school to school. Once or twice he was sent to Europe, and he dragged his family along with him. And while Germany was beautiful, you longed to be state side every time. It was tough. You never stayed in one place long enough to make friends. And you never bothered to exchange contact information with anyone you got close to because you knew it was pointless. It’s not like you’d ever see them again. You’d wished now that you’d kept in contact with some of those friends. It was always hard for you to be sociable and those who took an interest in you despite your introverted personality… _well it doesn’t matter now_ , you thought.

  
After your dad retired from the Marine Corps, the 5 of you settled in Chicago. For one reason, your father grew up in Michigan and he loved the cold weather but had no desire to go back to his hometown. For another reason, your mom finally finished her accountant schooling and found work in Chicago. But even though you’d finally gotten what you wanted, a normal life in one place where you could make friends and go to the same school for longer than one to two years, you still struggled.

  
You could never come out of your shell enough to accept anyone. You hated the school you went to. And eventually you were bullied for your reclusive nature. At the very least your time as the victim of bullying was short. When your father had heard about it from the school principal, he did what he could to make sure nobody messed with the child of a Marine veteran again.

  
Your wardrobe eventually started matching your moods. You were dressing in more black than a Hot Topic store could carry. You sported the spiked chokers, the leather corsets, even your makeup became darker. Though your parents don’t exactly approve of your appearances changes, they recognize it’s probably just a phase and that one day you’ll grow out of it. And if you don’t, well…it’s not like you’ll be living at home forever.

  
Around your junior year of high school, you started skipping school. You didn’t see the point of finishing high school considering it was boring and you sucked at pretty much every subject you’d been taking. You would take the public transportation bus to the school, but about 10 minutes after the bus would leave, you’d walk the opposite direction and hang out in an alley, smoking weed and selling crack cocaine for some extra cash on the side.

  
It wasn’t long before your parents found out about your hookie activities. Your father has threatened to send you to military school.

  
“I WILL NOT HAVE MY CHILD RUINING OUR LIVES BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND THE VALUE OF A GOOD EDUCATION. THE MARINE CORP WILL SHOW YOU HOW GOOD YOU HAVE IT HERE!” you remembered your father’s shouts. Your mother didn’t even bother saying a word. Not that she could, she was sobbing uncontrollably in her husband’s arms. Your little brothers hid in their room whenever you got into a fight with your parents.

  
Shortly after you’d made amends with your father and agreed to go back to school on the terms that he wouldn’t send you to boot camp, you started showing signs of severe clinical depression. Your parents wasted no time getting you professional help. You were put on several different types of anti-depression medications, but all they did was make you hate yourself more, and make your depression worse. You would’ve rather smoked weed to mellow out, but obviously that was not an option. And your therapists only made you want to stab him in the face. All those nonsense ideas of talking about all your psychological traumas, how they would help you move on and live a happier healthier life; it was all utter bullshit to you.

  
You’d managed to scrap by enough to graduate from high school. But instead of going to college, you got a job working at a local grocery store. At first you were happy to work there. Your boss was really cool and he had suffered from depression and anxiety himself so he understood your struggles. Your coworkers were also cool and you were well liked by your peers and the customers who crossed your path each work day. But that bliss was short lived.

  
That’s when the voices started.

  
_“why do you even work here?”_

_  
“because I couldn’t afford college”_

_  
“money is such a trivial thing”_

_  
“yeah well it’s needed to survive in this life”_

_  
“I could make your life a lot easier”_

_  
“yeah ok sure, weird voice in my head”_

_  
“I may be weird, but at least I have my head on straight”_

_  
“you’re in my head dude.”_

  
“Uhhh, Y/N?”

  
Your boss was standing in front of you. Apparently you had zoned out completely, staring into space as you were bagging an old lady’s groceries. She had a frightened look on her face.

  
“Yes sir?” you answered, acting like nothing had happened.

  
“When you get a moment, can you step into my office please?”

  
“Uhhh sure.” You replied. You wondered what this was about, but put it out of your mind and went back to finishing your work. When it came time for your break, you went back to the boss man’s office and sat down at the chair he gestured to.

  
“Y/N,” he began, taking a deep breath. You sensed this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation for either of you. “You’ve become very…how should I say this…detached. You’ve made a habit of staring into space, which normally I wouldn’t mind, sometimes we get distracted and lose focus. But you’ve been doing it more and more. Sometimes mid-conversation with customers or fellow coworkers. I’m starting to get a bit concerned. Is everything alright?”

  
“Yeah, I-I’m…I’m fine. I mean, I guess I have my moments,” you said. You wanted to continue but the voices wouldn’t shut the fuck up and let you think.

  
_“he’s onto us!”_

  
_“probably because you keep getting in the way of my work”_

  
_“you have to do something about it! I can’t be discovered!”_

  
_“dude chill. Its fine. Ill handle this. Just keep your mouth shut. Let me talk.”_

  
_“you have to kill him”_

  
_“what?”_

  
_“he can’t know. HE. CAN’T. KNOW.”_

  
_“you want me to kill him?”_

  
_“yes!”_

  
_“are you crazy? Absolutely not!”_

  
_“yes you must!”_

  
“I’m not going to kill him!!”

  
“I’m sorry?”

  
You froze. You didn’t mean to say that last bit out loud. You were starting to sweat and your heart was pounding hard and fast as you realized what you’d just done.

  
“Huh, what?” you decided to play dumb. Bad move.

  
“Kill who, exactly Y/N?” your boss eyed you suspiciously.

  
“Kill? I don’t know what you mean.”

  
Your boss sighed. He’d seen this kind of behavior while he was in the mental health ward during his own battles with self harm. He was starting to be concerned that you might need more help that you were letting on. He had a difficult decision to make.

  
“Y/N, what you just did, that zoning out, and then having the outburst you just did…..that’s what is so concerning to me right now. And the fact that you don’t even remember it…” he brought his fingers to his temples and lightly massaged them. “Here’s what I’m gonna recommend. Take some time off. Go seek some professional help. I think the stress of your issues and the occasional stresses of this job are starting to take its toll. You’re not fired, and I’m not suspending you, so don’t worry about employment. You’re like family to us. This grocery store has been run by my family for 4 generations. Your health is important to me. Go home, get some rest, and take a week or two off. If you need more time, just give me a call. I’ll take care of finding someone to cover your shifts.”

  
And with that, you left your work apron on his desk and went home.

  
At the time you didn’t think that would be the last time you’d ever see your boss again.

  
You had no memory of the next two days. Your mother said you came home from work early that day and just went to sleep, and didn’t wake up except to go to the bathroom. You’d had no appetite so you’d skipped dinner both nights. But when you woke up the 2 afternoons later, your parents were watching television in the living room with tears in their eyes. And you could see why. You sat down on the couch next to you and watched as your place of employment went up in smoke and flames. The words “NO SURVIVORS IN LOCAL GROCERY STORE EXPLOSION” blazed across your TV screen. And more tears spilled from your parents’ eyes when the faces of all your coworkers were plastered on the screen as the victims, your boss included.

  
You felt nothing. No shock. No sadness. Just…emptiness. Apathy.

  
Then rage.

  
_“what. did. you. **do?!** ”_

  
_“I told you he couldn’t know”_

* * *

  
Things only escalated from there. Soon you turned into this wrathful raging monster. You were trying to pick fights with everyone you came across. Everybody irritated you. You couldn’t explain it. You should’ve been sad and mourning the loss of some of the kindest people you’d ever been lucky enough to call friends. But you weren’t. You didn’t even go to any of their funerals. Or, more like memorial services. None of the bodies were able to be recovered. They were all incinerated to ashes. The entire town was in mourning for the loss of such a prominent staple of their community. But not you.

  
The day you finally snapped was the day your parents confronted you about your…issues.

  
They demanded you seek more professional help. They weren’t giving you an option. It was be committed or be homeless. They would not allow you to destroy what little life you had. Especially since you were so young. You fought tooth and nail not only with them, but with your little “friend.”

  
_“don’t even bring it up. I’m not gonna kill them. They’re right you know. I’m not acting like myself. What are you doing to me?!?”_

  
_“I’m not doing anything to you that you wouldn’t do to yourself given the right motivations.”_

  
_“what the fuck is that suppose to mean?”_

  
_“think about it kid. You were already a bumbling mess on the inside here. You’ve wanted to end all these little pathetic creatures who call themselves ‘humans’ for a long time. Im just finally giving you the tool you need to fulfill your desires”_

  
_“I never wanted to kill! NEVER! My boss was the closest thing id ever had to a friend! YOU KILLED THEM! NOT ME!”_

  
_“do I have your fingerprints? Do I have a body to execute these things? No. but you do. And that’s why it’s all on you.”_

  
“SHUT UP! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPPP!!!!!!!” You’d lost it completely. You started throwing things around in your room. You overturned your bed, tore open the mattress with your carving knife from when you took a woodshop class in high school, you knocked over all the shelves and bookcases containing some of your most prized possessions, you made sure not a single object in your room wasn’t left unbroken. By the time you were done, your parents has burst into the room, shock and horror on their faces. Your little brothers cowering behind them with tears in their eyes. And that’s when you broke. You’d never in your life as their older sister made them cry. No matter how bad you thought your life got, you always made sure they weren’t in your self destructive path. And here you were, losing what little sanity you had left, and it scared them. You wanted to just run up to them, take them into your arms, and assure them that it was okay. But you knew if you did they would run and your parents would prevent you.

  
By the time 1am rolled around that night, you were homeless. Your parents decided that instead of calling the cops, they would just make sure it was no longer their problem. They could not help someone who refused to help themselves. And since you were legally an adult, and minors were still living in the home, they threw you out. You were allowed to take one suitcase worth of clothing and toiletries with you. You gave them the keys to your car and the house, as neither were truly yours to begin with, and gave you the address of the local homeless shelter 5 blocks away.

  
_“looks like it’s just the two of us now, darling.”_

  
_“shut the fuck up.”_

  
_“for once, this isn’t your fault.”_

  
_“….really?”_

  
_“really. I mean think about it. The only people on this planet with the power to help you threw you out. Apparently youre only their child when you have problems they can deal with.”_

  
_“they were huh”_

  
_“they gave up on you. they gave up on their own flesh and blood. How insensitive! How disrespectful! Are you seriously gonna lie down and take that?!”_

  
_“……..no….no im not.”_

  
_“that’s my girl.”_

  
You woke up in the back of a police car with blood all over your hands and clothes. And soot in your hair and the scent of fire deep in your nasal passages. When you tried to sit up, you realized all four of your limbs were handcuffed together and you were laying prone. Flashbacks started to cloud your vision.

  
The screams.

  
The blood.

  
The sight of your baby brothers’ throats slit ear to ear with their eyes wide open and lifeless.

  
The smell of the digestive fluids spilling out of your parents’ disemboweled abdomens.

  
The gasoline.

  
The strike of matches.

  
The flight adrenaline as you ran outside as fast as you could before you were also blown to smithereens.

  
You tried your hardest to look up to where you were. And you saw it. The charred remains of what was once your home. The flashing lights of Chicago’s Finest trying to put out the smoldering mess. The police department medical examiner’s vans by what was the garage as four white sheet draped stretchers carried bodies out of the remnants of your house.

  
Then you screamed. As long and as loud as you could. Then everything around you went back.

  
_“no one puts Y/N in a corner”_


	3. New Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam’s big interview at the Mandrel Institute for Behavioral Health and Wellness is today and it goes down in an…interesting way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are gonna be more insight to how Sam and Reader got to where they will eventually end up.

Sam swore his heart rate was at least 200. He could hear the pumping of blood in his ears as his heartbeat refused to slow down. He also noticed he was starting to sweat a little bit. _Why am I so damn nervous?_ He didn’t remember being this much of an internal wreck when he did his final interviews before graduation. He willed himself to take deep breaths to try and calm his pounding heart. He had to at least appear like he was collectively cool before meeting with these people. He needed this job.

* * *

 

Moving back to Lawrence ended up being easier than expected. He didn’t have the funds to get his own place just yet so John and Mary offered to let him stay in his old room. Mary even went as far as to clean it up a bit so it resembled a grown man living there rather than a teenager.

“I appreciate the hell out of this, Mom. Thank you,” Sam said upon seeing his room after so long at Stanford.

“Well, I think it’s the least we can do. I know you think we don’t owe you anything, but you worked your tail off and you’ve made me and your father proud,” Mary said with a smile. She was standing in the door frame as Sam placed his bags on the bed. “We’re happy to do what we can until you get on your feet.”

“Thanks.” Sam approached his mother and kissed her on the cheek. “Hey, have you talked to Dean at all today?”

“He called late last night saying he was pulling an all-nighter and would be sleeping in the on call room. He apparently has back to back shifts this weekend,” said Mary, walking away from Sam’s room. He followed her to the kitchen.

“I swear his schedule is gonna be the death of him. He works so many crazy hours,” Sam said. He watched as his mother set the teakettle on the stove. Mary was obsessed with tea and had a vast collection of teapots, stove kettles, and teacup sets to supply the entire neighborhood.

“Now I see why you chose to be a psychologist. Less insane hours.”

“Oh I’ll still have crazy hours, just not that crazy.”

Sam and Mary shared a chuckle. They heard the teakettle whistling on the stove, and Mary went to go grab it. She poured a cup of tea for both her and her youngest son. They spent the rest of the afternoon catching up. When early evening came, Sam bid Mary goodnight and went straight to bed.

* * *

Everything went according to plan. Sam woke ahead of his alarm, which gave him plenty of time to get ready without rushing. He went downstairs to make some coffee and drank a cup while making himself some eggs, bacon, and toast for breakfast. He watched the news a little bit while he breakfasted. The news anchorman mentioned something about a girl being found not guilty of murdering her entire family, but Sam wasn’t paying too much attention to all the details. He headed up to the small upstairs bathroom that he and Dean used to share as kids to take a shower. He had laid out his best 3-piece suit, freshly polished dress shoes, and his lucky tie the night before, but he had enough time to give his dress shirt a quick iron before getting dressed. His ‘lucky’ tie didn’t look anything more than an ordinary blue and red plaid tie, but he knew that good things always happened when we wore it. He wore it the day he was approved for his full ride to Stanford, the day he was accepted into the medicine program, and the night of his first date with Jessica. He didn’t expect to get ‘lucky’ with her; he just wanted everything to go perfectly.  And it did, considering they officially became a couple after that date. He smiled at the thought. Sometimes he really missed her.

Sam thought about calling Jess after he left for Lawrence, just to see how she was doing or to offer an ear to another one of her usual school rants. But he knew better of it.  Either she would think he was leading her on, or she would try to convince him to move back to California. And knowing Jessica Lee Moore’s powers of persuasion, he’d drop everything in a heartbeat to go see her. No, the past needed to stay in the past. Time to move forward with bigger and better opportunities in life. Who knows? Maybe he’d find a hometown girl to settle down with. Get married, have children, live close to his parents so they could be in his children’s lives. But he was getting a bit ahead of himself in this thinking.

He finished ironing his shirt and went back to his room to get dressed. When he was done, he did a once over of his overall look in the full length mirror. Everything looked in perfect order. _Damn, they won’t know what hit them!_ Sam thought with a smirk. He ran a comb through the shaggy mop on his head, but it didn’t change a whole lot. He didn’t even know why he bothered with hair accessories - His shaggy hazelnut colored hair was one of his trademarks. At least it would fit the stereotypical psychologist profiles. A tall, messy haired dude who talked to crazy people for a living. _Oh God, I’m turning into my brother_. And with that thought, he walked out of his room with a small briefcase in one hand and the keys to his car in another.

The drive to the asylum wasn’t long as he didn’t live too far from it. Sam didn’t even have to get on the freeway. But once his car entered the heavily gated and armed parking lot and he parked his Charger as close to the entrance as he could, his confidence seemed to die off. He started feeling an overwhelming sense of…anxiety. He knew all the signs and symptoms of anxiety as he’d studied it intensively. He even wrote a term paper about anxiety and the ties to how Western civilization is dependent on anxiety to keep it functioning. He started shaking, a shot of panic rose up from his gut, threatening to make him lose his breakfast, and fatigue started to creep up as well. His placed two fingers on the radial side of his wrist to feel his pulse. It was racing. He looked at the analog clock built into his car and counted one feverishly fast heartbeat after another.

“126,” Sam said breathlessly. That made the panic come in full force. The shaking did not cease and he suddenly felt like he’d slept too much and needed a nap. “What the hell is wrong with me?” He knew his resting heart rate normally sat around 74 beats a minute. A big part of medical school was knowing, without a doubt, what your normal resting vital signs were. Sam knew his by heart, no pun intended.

He sat in the car and tried to calm down, but it didn’t work. He felt the urge to get out of the car and run all the way back home, feeling trapped. He stepped out of the car as calmly as he could instead. Then it dawned on him, and he had to laugh.

“It’s an asylum. Of course I’m feeling shaky as all hell.” Once the rational part of his brain caught with reality, he had a feeling the natural energies of a psychiatric facility would instill those anxious feelings on a person. Sam looked at his reflection in the driver side window and made sure he was professionally presentable. He grabbed his briefcase and headed inside.

* * *

Walking in the front door of the facility made Sam wonder if anyone here was truly sane. Whatever he felt in the parking lot was stronger by at least tenfold, but he knew how to fight it off this time. Over the phone he was told to enter through the main gates and speak to the head nurse of the south wing. So he made his way towards the south wing and found the office door of the head nurse cracked open slightly. He knocked.

“Please come in,” a slightly pleasant female voice said from inside.

Sam entered into her office. She was a pretty woman, mid fifties, not much older than his mother. It was obvious that she took good care of herself over the years. He got the impression that though a job in a place like this was daunting and depressing, she was good at being compassionate towards everyone who came her way. That gave Sam some hope.

“Hello!” she said as she got up from her chair, the same cheerful demeanor not faltering as she went to shake Sam’s hand. “You must be Dr. Winchester. I’m Susan Mackey, Head of Nursing here at Mandrel. The Chief of Staff has been expecting you. Have a seat!”

“Thank you,” Sam replied kindly. He sat in a worn, but comfortable chair opposite her desk and set his briefcase down by his side. He looked at the brass and wooden nameplate on her desk that bore the words “Susan H. Mackey, RN, MSN.” He looked up to see her grabbing what looked like a black leather bag. She came back to his left side with the bag, placing it on her desk. She took out items that Sam didn’t expect to see during his interview day. A blood pressure cuff, a stethoscope, and a penlight.

“Umm…” Sam began, “With all due respect Ms. Mackey-”

“Oh darling, you can call me Susan,” she said with a giggle. “You make me feel my actual age if you call me Ms. Anything!”

“Right…okay, Susan,” Sam replied with an embarrassed smile, his dimples coming out, “With all due respect, I was under the impression this was a job interview. I’m not requesting admission.”

Susan looked at him with a serious look on her face. Sam silently gulped. “Did you feel a panic attack coming into the parking lot?”

Sam looked at her, stunned. “How did you know?” Susan gestured for him to remove his suit jacket and roll up his dress shirtsleeve. Sam complied.

“Since 1964 every person who has crossed the threshold of these premises has felt those exact feelings, even people with no history of psychiatric triggers.” She started to wrap the cuff around Sam’s muscular bicep. As she positioned her stethoscope’s earpieces around her neck, she started feeling around for his brachial pulse. She continued, “We started getting unnecessary admissions because people thought they were going crazy! It was made policy that every person that walks through the facility gets a once over, just to make sure it’s the atmosphere and not something legitimate.” She put the earpieces into her ears and placed the diaphragm of the stethoscope on Sam’s arm. As she took his blood pressure, Sam pondered on her words.

 _That’s not a bad policy to have,_ he thought. _If this place radiates pseudo-psychotic emotions, it can induce a panic attack. Not much different from what I felt coming here._

“Your blood pressure is textbook perfect,” Susan said as she ripped off the cuff. But instead of removing her stethoscope from her ears, she took the diaphragm and placed it over Sam’s chest, startling him a bit. “Deep breath.” He complied, four time over. Then she placed it over the apex of his heart, listening while looking at her watch. He knew to relax and breathe normally for this.

 _I think I’ll keep my previous symptoms to myself and let my body speak for itself._ It wasn’t until after she was done listening to his heart that she put the stethoscope away and picked up the penlight. Sam didn’t have to be told to look her in the eyes. She flicked the light in and out of sight with each of his hazel eyes. Then she put that away. She packed up her bag and put it back where she got it. She didn’t seem concerned about anything, so Sam assumed everything was okay.

“You’re good to go, Dr. Winchester. Feel free to button yourself back up, then follow me.”

Sam rolled his sleeve back down, buttoned up the cuffs, then slipped back into his suit jacket and adjusted his tie. Then he followed Susan out of her office, down the hall, around the corner, then down another hall, until they arrived at a door with a plaque that read “Chief of Staff.” Susan knocked quietly.

“It’s open,” said a rough, older male voice from within. Susan opened the door and allowed Sam to enter first.

“Professor, your interviewee is here for his appointment.” Susan looked at Sam and winked at him. He returned the gesture with a smile, then faced the man at the pristine solid oak desk, which was currently littered with stacks of papers and folders. An older model desktop computer sat on the desk’s left side. _Damn, haven’t seen a computer like that since Dean and I were kids,_ Sam thought.

“Good morning, Dr. Winchester. Professor Nigel Withman, Chief of Staff.” The Professor extended his hand to Sam, whom gratefully shook it. _The man had a firm handshake,_ Sam noted. “Do you prefer Samuel or Sam?”

“Uh, Sam is fine, thank you,” he replied, taking the seat that Nigel gestured for him to sit in. The Professor took his place behind his desk. ,

“Sam, you’ve come to join our faculty at an interesting time,” Nigel began.

“Why is that, sir?”

“Oh man, you’re killing me here!” Nigel produced a lighthearted chuckle, causing Sam to furrow his brows a bit. “Though your respect is admirable. I appreciate that. No need for sirs and madams here, Sam, first names are appropriate enough. Though everyone here tends to just call me Professor.”

“Very well. Professor.” That earned Sam a genuine grin from Nigel.

“So you’re a Stanford graduate?”

“Yes, I graduated four months ago. Top of my class all the way through.”

“I read through your resume and phoned all of your references. Very impressive. Not one speck of dirt was spoken about your passion, your integrity, and your love for what you worked so hard for.” Nigel pointed to the wall to Sam’s right. He looked up to where he was pointing and saw a handful of richly framed diplomas, all bearing the same Stanford seals his own did.

“I also graduated from Stanford. Back in the 80’s. You were probably just a thought bubble in your parents’ minds when I started teaching Psychology classes there.”

“No kidding!” Sam exclaimed. He loved it when he met fellow Stanford Alumni.

Sam and Nigel spent pretty much the entire interview exchanging stories from their respected Stanford days. Nigel told funny stories about the daily shenanigans of students and his fellow faculty colleagues alike, and Sam would laugh and retort with similar experiences he had with the faculty members he remembered. It was probably the best job interview he’d ever been to. He just hoped this wasn’t distracting Nigel from the task at hand: Was he going to hire Sam?

“Well, Sam,” Nigel said, finishing the tea he’d made for the both of them, “I think you would make an excellent addition to our clinical staff.”

“That’s great! Thank you for the opportunity.” Sam was practically radiating sunshine with his smile. He was so happy to know he’d gotten the job. “If I may ask, when would you like me to start?”

“Truth be told, I’d like you to come in first thing tomorrow morning. Will that work for you?” Nigel had a serious expression on his face. Sam could tell there was a reason behind the sudden start date.

“Of course, whenever you need me, I’ll be here,” Sam replied, holding his breath subconsciously.

“That’s fantastic.” Nigel got up to make sure there was nobody at the door. Sam could tell things were about to turn strictly confidential. The Professor turned to go back to his desk and fished out a set of manila folders. “I only ask because we’re getting in a new patient first thing tomorrow. And I’d like to assign this case to you.” He handed the papers to Sam.

“Sure thing, Professor.” Sam was about to open the folders and look through them, but Nigel spoke up again, tearing his attention from the papers.

“This young woman who’s coming here, she’s the center of a highly publicized case. I’m sure you’ve heard the verdict was announced this morning?”

Sam looked down at the picture. “Uh yeah, not guilty by reasons of insanity? Family of four murdered by the oldest daughter? I caught wind of something like that on the news this morning over breakfast. Won’t lie, I wasn’t paying too much attention to it.”

“That’s alright, Sam,” Nigel said. “Well in any case, she’s being transferred here. Instead of life in prison the judge thought it best to have her committed for life. The two of you aren’t that far apart in age. Given your exceptional reputation that preceded you at Stanford, I believe you would be the best doctor for the case. We’re thinking some sort of schizophrenia, or another form of clinical psychosis, but I will leave you to be the judge of that.”

Sam nodded.

“Look over those files to familiarize yourself with the case,” Nigel said, standing up. Sam joined him, gathering up his briefcase and sticking the papers in them. “If you can be here by 9 o’clock tomorrow morning, we’ll get you started on everything. Give you the grand tour, so to speak. The new resident won’t be here til later in the afternoon. She’s coming from Chicago so it’s gonna be a while before she arrives. Wear something a little more comfortable while maintaining your professional appearance.”

“I’ll do just that, Professor.” Sam extended his hand for Nigel to shake, which he gladly accepted. “Thank you so much for this. I won’t let you down.”

“Pssh, I ain’t worried about that,” Nigel said with a casual wave of his hand. He led Sam out of his office and back towards the main entrance hall, but not before he insisted Sam take a cup of coffee with him. Sam graciously accepted it and walked back to his car.

He decided to call Dean to tell him the good news. Juggling a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of paper filled folders in his arms, he pulled out his phone and dialed Dean’s number. He really needed to invest in a hands free headset one of these days.

“You get the job, little brother?” Dean said. He was currently on his lunch break at Douglas County Regional Medical Center’s emergency department. He liked to take his time with lunch, considering he was now chief resident of Trauma and his time was very limited while on duty.

“I did, Dean. And I’ve already been assigned my first case,” Sam said, now trying to pull out his keys. He ended up dropping his coffee onto the ground in his poor attempt at juggling. Good thing he was a doctor and not a circus sideshow. _The rain will wash it away,_ Sam thought, noticing it was starting to drizzle above him.

“That’s great man! Congrats!” Dean said with a mouth full of food. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he said while trying to swallow said mouthful, “who’s the lucky bastard?” Sam heard him chuckle on the other end. Dean always thought he was a damn comedian.

“Well you know as well as I do I can’t go into too much detail, but it’s been highly publicized. The quadruple homicidal house fire in Chicago?” Sam said as he was getting into the car.

“No shit, seriously?” Dean exclaimed. “Yeah it was all over national news. Not guilty by reason of insanity. I find it funny that she’s being sent to Lawrence of all places.”

“Probably for her safety, Dean,” Sam said.

“True enough,” Dean replied. “Damn, man. You’re gonna have your hands full with that one. If you need a consultation, you know who to call.”

“Sure thing. Only problem is, I don’t have Lindsey’s number on me. You got it by chance?” Sam chuckled and he could picture his brother’s scowl. Lindsey Buschminer was one of Dean’s newest interns, and it was obvious she had a crush on him. She followed him like a lost duckling looking for its mother.

“Bite me, bitch.”

“Jerk.”

They shared a chuckle. It always made Sam smile that him and his big brother still played those childish name calling games, even though they were both well established and highly respected doctors in their chosen specialties. Sam could hear chairs scraping on the other end of the line and then the sound of radio talk in the background.

“I’ve got a call to get to, Sammy. Probably will be late for dinner tonight.”

“It’s Sam. And you mean like the last three nights you missed? Don’t sweat it. Mom and Dad know damn well what you do for a living. I think they’ll forgive you.”

“Saving lives is hard, back breaking work. You’d know that if you’d chosen something other than dealing with nutjobs all day.”

“Dean, don’t call them that. It’s demeaning and insensitive.”

“At least my patients acknowledge my presence when I walk in an exam room. I mean, have you seen me?” Dean chuckled again. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, dude. I’ll talk to you later. And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Be safe, okay?”

“You too, Sam.” And with that, Dean hung up the phone.

Sam closed the door and removed his suit jacket. He loosened his tie and undid the cuff buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. He started the car and picked up one of the manila folders, shaking off the rain that had gotten on it when he set it down on the roof of his car. He pulled out a few papers, skimming through them. The first page had a big colored photo of your mugshot from when you were officially booked at the county jail for murder.


	4. New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader’s life following her crimes, her time in prison, and the events that lead to her going to the asylum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: DEPRESSION, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, NIGHTMARES, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND MURDER, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE [be safe, dear readers!]
> 
> A/N: This is a pretty dark one, y’all. And I’m only getting started. Stay safe and read at your own risk. Thanks!<3

_"I’m starting to think this was a bad idea.”  
_

_“What do you mean? You’re free now!”_

_“I’m fairly certain being in prison for murder and arson is the exact opposite of freedom.”_

* * *

You didn’t remember the ride to the Chicago PD’s headquarters. After you’d screamed at the bodies of your mother, father, and little brothers being placed in the back of the medical examiner’s vans, you passed out. Hitting your head on the edge of the window kept you under until you were being dragged out by several uniformed officers. Apparently murderers were brought into a garage type place under the station for booking.

They placed you on a cot and led you into a secluded and cold room. Everything was done in there. The fingerprinting, the mugshots, all of it. It wasn’t until several hours later that two female officers came in to dress you in a baggy pink and white striped prison uniform, and you were finally able to get out of the ankle cuffs. They kept your hands cuffed in front of you as they escorted you to your prison cell.

Along the way, there were whoops and hollers from the other inmates. Apparently you were in an all-women’s wing of the facility because none of the voices appeared to be male. Some cheered you on, others yelled obscenities and threats to your life. But you didn’t really hear them. The voice inside your head was way louder than they could ever be. You ended up being taken to what reminded you of TV’s version of solitary confinement.

“You will remain here until your first court date,” one of the female officers said in a cold, unemotional voice. “You will be brought all of your meals and medications through this slot in the door. You will be taken outside once a day for an hour after the rest of the inmates have had yard time. This is being done not only for your protection but for theirs as well. You’ve already been read your rights, and your court appointed attorney will see you in the morning. Do you have any questions?”

You didn’t look at her. You just shook your head enough for her to see you were saying no. And without another word, you were left alone. But you knew that deep down, you were never alone.

_“What is your name?”_

_“Huh?”_

_“You claim you have no responsibility in my family’s deaths, yet you were the one who convinced me to do it. I’ve been talking to you for as long as I can remember, but I never learned your name. And since you know mine I think it’s only fair I know yours. What is it?”_

_“That’s…complicated…”_

_“How is it complicated?” You were silent for a moment. “Do you even have a name?”_

_“Huh…no I guess I don’t.”_

_“May I name you?”_

_“Uhhhhhhhhhhhh…..sure I guess. Never understood the point of a name, but if it suits you, then yes. You may name me.”_

_“Well in my head you sound like a man, so you would need a male name.”_

_“I have no sex or gender, but again, whatever floats you baby.”_

_You ignored the comment and continued. “And you appear to be very old…sorry if that’s offensive.”_

_“None taken.”_

_“So someone as old as you wouldn’t have a name like John or James, Sam or Dean. So it’s gotta sound ancient.”_

_“Okay I’m old, you’ve made your point already.” The voice sounded annoyed._

_“Dragon.”_

_“Dragon?”_

_“Dragons are mythical creatures that are thousands of years old and are very very powerful. That was the first thing that came to mind. So I officially name you Dragon.”_

_“My name is Dragon. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”_

_“I cannot believe I just named the voice inside my head…”_

_“Hey first step to a serious relationship is learning someone’s name, sweetie.”_

_“Now you’re just being creepy.”_

* * *

Two weeks went by before your first court date arrived. In those two weeks, you did exactly what the female officer said you would do. You sat in the room alone, with nothing and no one but Dragon to keep you company. You were given your three meals a day through the slot in the door without a word from the deliverer. The slot opened with a solid metal thud, the tray of food was slipped in, you took it, the slot was closed and locked back up. You were surprised you had an appetite at all. After being locked up all day and sitting outside during your yard time, you would go to sleep and have nothing but nightmares.

Flashbacks from that night. The stone cold dead faces of your family staring back at you with emptiness in their eyes. All four of them slaughtered like unwanted livestock and left to rot on the straw covered barn floor. Throats slit, disemboweled, eyes cut out, stab wounds over every inch of their bodies. Their innocent bodies. Their naked bodies. You’d wake up screaming for Dragon to stop making you kill them. Fortunately none of the prison guards bothered to come check on you. You weren’t even sure they could hear you. If they did, they probably chose to ignore you. Why would they come to your rescue? You were in prison as a murderer. A vile monster who brutally and mercilessly sliced and diced your own family while they were sleeping. While they were in their most vulnerable state. They never had a chance to defend themselves because they never heard you coming. Your parents had plenty of guns for home defense in the house but because of Illinois’ strict gun laws, they kept them locked up in a combination safe. They were completely useless and defenseless to your attack. And your little brothers? What would they have used? Their words? Called you names and teased you until you gave up? Alan and Jimmy were basically little kids. Little kids are supposed to rely on their parents and older siblings for defense. And now they lay in the city morgue at the hands of someone who should’ve protected them.

The night before your scheduled court date, you ended up crying yourself to sleep. Dragon was silent the entire time. You started to wonder if the sole reason you ended up here had just abandoned you. You wished he would just command you to hang yourself so this living nightmare would end.

* * *

“Y/F/N Y/L/N,  it is my understanding that you would like to enter your plea.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“What is your plea?”

“Not guilty.”

The courtroom let out a collective gasp in the form of a whisper. With all the glaring evidence mounted against you, nobody expected you to say that. But you had to stick to your guns. You had to make sure you were proven innocent. Easier said than done.

“Ms. Y/L/N, this is a very serious situation you’ve landed yourself into. There is no room in this courtroom for anything less than the honest and serious truth.”

Your lawyer leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Y/N that’s not what we talked about.”

You whispered back to him, “Screw what we talked about. I didn’t do shit. I’m not taking the blame for this.”

But before you could say anything more, your lawyer asked for some time. You couldn’t remember the exact terminology he used, but the judge allowed it. The judge adjourned the court, and you were escorted back to the holding room where you could speak with your lawyer in private. He probably was gonna come in and say that he was off the case because you didn’t follow what he advised you to do. But apparently he had other things in mind.

“I’m going to consult a psychiatrist on this and he or she will determine if you are competent enough to even stand trial. If they determine you are, then your ‘not guilty’ plea will lead to a full blown trial. If it turns out you are not competent to stand trial, you will most likely be ordered to be committed to a mental health facility for the rest of your life.”

_“You know psych wards aren’t too terribly bad.”_

_“You would know, wouldn’t you?”_

_“Of course! You’re not the first head I’ve had to live in. You said it yourself, I’m older than time, or whatever.”_

_You were pretty sure if Dragon had his own body, he would’ve nonchalantly and carelessly waved his hand away from you._

_“That was the gesture I was going for.”_

_“How did y-”_

_“Y/N darling, I’m in your mind, remember? Can see and hear your thoughts, booboo.”_

“Y/N?”

You were snapped back to reality. Your lawyer was staring at you with concern. He muttered something about “talking about this another day” and promptly left you alone with your thoughts in the holding room. After a few minutes of blissful silence, armed officers came to escort you back to the transport van, where they would be taking you back to your solitary confinement hell.

 _“It’s gonna be pretty damn hard to kill in these conditions.”_ It was the last thing Dragon said before you fell asleep, skipping your evening meal.

Apparently you were never given the chance to reconsider your plea. Your lawyer had met with several consultants and the judge presiding over your case. It was determined that, based on your behaviors in the presence of your lawyer, that you were not competent enough to stand trial. They sent a psychiatrist to your prison to confirm this the week following your first court date. Another two months passed by before you were brought before the judge a final time.

“Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, this court finds you not guilty by reasons of insanity. It is my decision as the judge presiding over this case that a prison sentence would not reach you on the level that it would a typical convicted felon. Therefore I hereby order you committed for life to the Mandrel Institute Of Behavioral Health and Wellness in Lawrence, Kansas. You will leave today. This court is dismissed.”

And with the hit of his mallet, the court was adjourned and you were being escorted to a transport van that would take you from the closest town you’d ever considered a home. To somewhere in Kansas known as Lawrence.

You were told that it was going to be an eight to nine hour drive, and you were only to speak if you needed to use the bathroom. For the safety of the general public, you were traveling in a van that had tinted windows so dark it would make any limousine on the road jealous. You weren’t even afforded the ability to look out the window effectively. Not that you deserved anything at this point, you just found it annoying. You were in a van that had enough room for fifteen people, yet you were handcuffed all the way in the back. And the only person between you and the driver of the van was a police officer, armed with an AR-15 automatic rifle. And he had orders to put you down in the event you got violent.

Dragon did not stop talking the entire drive. You just let him ramble, not even acknowledging his presence anymore. He tried to taunt you in every demented way he could, but you kept up the silent approach. When there were about two hours left to go for the journey, you decided to speak up and ask for a bathroom break. You didn’t think they’d stop at a local diner or a gas station for such a stop, but you definitely didn’t expect to be handed a bucket and told to find a bush to do your business. You didn’t bother to argue or complain, you just took what you were given and handled it. You assumed that since you couldn’t speak for anything other than to go to the bathroom, you left the bucket behind the tree. Nobody said a word as you all climbed back into the van and continued the rest of your journey.

When you finally arrived to the facility, you didn’t even notice you were there until you were being called out. But something stopped you from complying. You felt this wave of nausea, fatigue, and anxiety hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt your heart beating super fast inside your chest. It reverberated against your ribs and echoed in your ears.

You don’t know what happened after that. That last thing you remember is screaming to make the pounding stop, shouting it at the top of your lungs and attempting to run away. But then your memory cut out, like the world just froze in time. When your memory cut back to the present, you were in a padded room, your arms, legs and head restrained with leather restrains to a creaky old bed.


	5. You’re Way Too Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when the reader doesn’t think her first day at the asylum could get any worse, she meets Dr. Winchester for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: ANGST, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, SCHIZOPHRENIA, SELF DOUBT.

Sam looked out the window on the 5th floor at the scene unfolding before him. He swore his jaw was on the 4th floor.

A young girl had tried to run from uniformed, armed officers. They were about to shoot her. Sam held his breath, saying a silent prayer that she would go quickly.

But when she held up her hand towards the officers, they slowly lowered their weapons. She went from being completely freaked out to having a calm demeanor in a matter of a few heartbeats.

Then she was tackled by every able bodied person within the vicinity. But not before she collapsed where she stood.

“Oh, that must be her,” Nigel said nonchalantly, “Guess she got here in one piece.”

Sam whipped around to face his boss. “Wait, so that’s-”

“Dr. Winchester, welcome to the Mandrel Institute of Behavioral Health and Wellness. That woman in the parking lot is your newest patient.”

* * *

You woke up for the first time in what felt like forever. Your head hurt and you felt something like a lump on the back of it. But when you tried to reach out to feel how bad the damage was, you realized you were restrained. You were bound in soft leather medical grade restraints, all four limbs tied to the creaky four-post bed in the middle of what looked like a dilapidated room. You also noted that the walls were padded with no windows or, from the looks of it, doors. If this wasn’t a scene straight out of every American horror film, then you didn’t know what was.

_“At least they’re concerned for your well-being, darling.”_

_“What is this place exactly?”_

_“Welcome to the Mandrel Institute for Behavioral Health and Wellness, Y/N. Located on the west side of Lawrence, Kansas, the big fancy title is just a glorified way of saying it’s this town’s loony-bin.”_

_“You’re in a good mood.”_

_“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s just you and me now princess! Nobody else to mess with us. Well, that is until whatever crackpot doc they stick you with decides to come out of hiding.”_

_“Well whoever they are, let me do the talking please.”_

_“I make no promises, my love.”_

You rolled your eyes at that last statement. Dragon talked to you as if the two of you were an old married couple. But the things he made you do were scary. The problem was, you didn’t know what you were scared of more. The fact that he was controlling you to the point of murder, or the fact that you didn’t feel you were doing anything wrong when you committed your crimes.

* * *

Sam arrived at work the next day ready to meet you. He’d studied your case and the files he obtained from the Professor and the DA’s office in Chicago all last night. He was surprised he got any sleep. He was so excited to finally practice. He’d worked so hard for all his credentials, and it felt good to be able to put them to use, to make a difference. With his mother an ICU nurse, his father a Lawrence PD Sergeant, and his older brother a trauma surgeon, it seemed to be in Sam’s blood. Saving lives, helping people, the family business. He chuckled to himself, thinking they ought to make it the Winchester motto.

He pulled into the parking lot, the now-familiar symptoms of anxiety creeping along the edges of his being. But he’d learned simple coping mechanisms to shrug it off.  Walking in through the front doors, he went to Susan’s office first to have his vital signs checked. After he was given the all clear, he made his way to the south wing’s nurses station.

“Good morning,” Sam said to a woman at the front desk. Her badge read ‘Tiffany Fleeman, RN.’

“Good morning, Dr. Winchester!” Tiffany replied with a bright smile. “I’m Tiffany, the RN on call today. I’m assuming you’re here for Miss Y/N.”

“Yes,” Sam replied. Tiffany handed him your chart for him to review. “I’ve been told her first night here didn’t go smoothly.”

“That’s an understatement,” Tiffany said grimly, “She hasn’t eaten at all since she left Chicago. And she could be heard screaming throughout the halls. She was initially restrained because of the incident in the parking lot, but we had to restrain her again for her own safety overnight.”

“What happened in the parking lot,” Sam asked. He remembered seeing something happen but never bothered to inquire about it until now.

“Well, like everyone here the atmosphere in the parking lot got to her. You and me, healthcare professionals, we can shrug it off, no big deal. But someone with severe psychosis,” Tiffany let her sentence trail off to make a face, “Everyone assumed she was going to be shot dead right there for trying to escape. But then the darnedest thing happened.”

Sam gave her an inquisitive look, which urged Tiffany to continue. “Nobody really saw for sure what triggered it, but the patient held up her hand and the guards all lowered their weapons.

“Someone said she was saying something to the officer directly in front of her either right before or right after she did it. No one can explain it. Then she collapse and everyone swarmed in on her. We eventually had to remove the restraints to let her arms and legs rest.”

“Yeah, you restrict blood flow for too long, even if they’re loose, it can do permanent circulation damage,” Sam said. Tiffany nodded.

Sam flipped through your chart, noting your vital signs and current mental state. It confirmed that you were offered dinner and breakfast and violently refused both.

He looked back at Tiffany after closing your chart. “Thank you, Tiffany.”

“My pleasure!” She smiled. “If you need anything, we’ll see you running.” She winked at him, and he returned it with a smile of his own.

Then, heart pounding and breathing deeply, he made his way towards your room.

* * *

_“I’m tired,” you thought. You were moved from the padded room to one with a window. It would’ve been a lot nicer if the windows didn’t have wrought-iron bars on them._

_“Sleep is for the weak.”_

_“Easy for you to say, you’re a- actually what are you exactly? And don’t give me any bullshit excuses, I wanna know exactly who i’m sharing a head with. I think i’m owed that much considering I’m in this place because of you.”_

_“That’s for me to know and you to have fun figuring out.”_

_“Dragon….”_

_“What?” he whined_

_“For all the talking you do, you don’t talk a whole lot about yourself. At least i’m not ignoring you anymore”_

_“Kinda hard to ignore this awesome voice.”_

_“I guess.”_

There was a knock at your door. You were sitting in a chair close to a window far away from it, so between Dragon and the exhaustion that he refused to let you satisfy with at least a cat nap, you barely heard the knocking. You didn’t bother turning around when someone entered, nor did you acknowledge the stranger’s verbal outreach.

“Miss Y/L/N?” The voice sounded male, young. Maybe mid-twenties.  You didn’t expect to have any visitors. You didn’t think anyone besides all of Chicago’s law enforcement community knew you were here. And they weren’t likely to show up in middle-of-nowhere Kansas to visit a murdering arsonist.

_“Ooooh girl turn around! Check out the face on that handsome sack of meat.”_

You did as Dragon commanded. And you were surprised your jaw didn’t hit the floor.

He was very tall and had shaggy brown hair with deep copper highlights that appeared to be natural. His eyes were a chronomantic shade of hazel. The sunlight was coming in through the window and it spotlighted some of his facial features. He had a few moles on his face, but they seemed to accent him well. He had a jawline that could cut diamonds, and he was clean shaven. You wondered what he would look like with some scruff. You didn’t mind the gruff manly look, but preferred to have your men free of something that would itch if you tried to kiss them.

_“Five seconds into looking at him and already you wanna make out. Naughty naughty.”_

“Shut the hell up!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

You looked at the man again, standing by the now-closed door, your chart in his hand. He was eyeing you with concern. You just glared at him and turned your back to him again. Whatever he was, he wasn’t there to help you clearly.

The man cleared his throat. “Good morning, Miss Y/L/N. I’m Dr. Sam Winchester, I’m the clinical psychologist assigned to your case by the court.” Sam came a little closer to you and sat on the edge of the bed. He knew it was safest for him to give you plenty of space.

_“Sam…that’s a good strong name for such a handsome strong dude.”_

“Yeah it is” you giggled.

“I’m sorry?” Sam asked.

“I wasn’t talking to you, otherwise I would’ve addressed you directly. Dick,” you spat coldly.

Sam sighed almost inaudibly. He needed to remember not to take anything negative a patient said to him personally. “Um, okay. How are you feeling today?”

“You’re a little young to be a doctor, aren’t you?”

“You haven’t really looked at me.”

“I saw enough.”

This time Sam’s sigh was a bit more noticeable. Time to get real.

“Okay look, Y/N. I know you’re not exactly in the caring and sharing mood, and given everything you’ve been though, I understand. Believe me, I do,” Sam’s voice was a lot more forward and not as kind. You took notice, but still didn’t face him. “But eventually you’re gonna have to face me and open up. I’m only here to help you, but I cannot help you if you won’t help yourself. Or me.”

You pondered on his words. Then slowly but surely, you turned around to face the man sitting on your bed. His eyes were as serious as your criminal charges. No bullshitting around this one, you thought.

“You can’t help me,” you finally said.

“What makes you say that?” Sam replied.

“I’ve been dealing with this pretty much my whole life. And now it’s landed me here. You cannot help me. So you’re wasting my time, your time, and whoever put you on my case’s time. Just get out.”

“Miss Y/L/N-”

“I SAID GET OUT!” you screamed, making the bed shift slightly. It startled Sam, and he didn’t waste any time leaving your room.

* * *

Sam took two steps outside your door when he stopped. He was mortified. Nobody had ever stopped him from doing what he wanted when someone told him no. Why would you be any different? Why should you be any different? There’s always a solution to every single problem in the world and he was determined to find it.

No amount of shouting, or apparently psychosis induced telekinesis, was going to stop him.

He’d research day and night, worship the coffee gods and lose sleep over it, until he found out how to reach you, how to get you on a level of mutual understanding. Then maybe, the two of you could work through your problems.

He just had to keep trying. But not today. It was obvious you were too agitated to speak to anyone. So he made his way to the Professor’s office, and knocked.

“It’s open!” Nigel called from inside. Sam walked in and dropped into the chair in front of his desk.  Nigel looked up from his book and greeted Sam’s weary expression with a warm smile. In a way, Nigel reminded Sam of his Uncle Bobby in Sioux Falls. He wasn’t blood related but he was a very close friend of his dad’s, so Sam and Dean always looked to him like the uncle they’d always wanted. Rough around the edges, but always open to help. Except in Nigel’s case, there was a lot less alcoholism and grimoires keeping the place dusty.

“How’d it go, kiddo?” Nigel said, though he needn’t bothered asking. His answer was all over Sam’s face.

“She threw me out.”

“I hope not physically. That would call for some stepped up protocols and possibly charges. If you’re willing,” Nigel regarded.

“No no, nothing like that,” Sam said, loosening his tie. He felt like he could breathe a bit better without it on, which wasn’t normal for him considering he took great pride in his professional appearance. Wearing a tie was like wearing socks with his shoes. Completely necessary. “My guess is she’s just not ready to talk. But rest assure, I’m gonna be in there every day until she opens up. It’s only a matter of time. She won’t scare me away that easily.”

“Except for right now,” Professor laughed.

“Right now, she’s still new to this environment, so I think it’s making her more agitated. All these new people, in a new home located in a new town far away from what she once considered home. It can be intimidating.” Sam looked up at Nigel as he was removing his suit jacket and rolling up his shirtsleeves. “You’re not suggesting I go back there and agitate her further, are you Professor?”

“Not at all!” Nigel said, “And I applaud you for keeping your safety and well-being in mind when dealing with potentially violent offenders.”

Sam waited for it, but when it didn’t come, “But…”

“But this is also your first case in what I’m sure will be a long and prosperous career and you’re already in my office talking about it, looking like you need to see a doctor yourself.”

“Very funny,” Sam scoffed. “Sometimes it’s best to wait for the patient to make the first move. No matter what we do, at the end of the day, they have to be willing to help themselves.”

“True,” Nigel said, rubbing his chin. “What’s your first impression of her?”

Sam placed his index finger towards his mouth and bit the side lightly, thinking about it for a moment. On the surface, she was distant, cold, and she kept talking to herself. There were definitely clear signs of schizophrenia there. He would make sure that it was the basis of his diagnosis and eventual treatment plan unless something else came up. But just from his short interaction with her, the way she looked at him, he saw something in her eyes. Something Sam never thought he’d see in someone who killed her entire family.

“On the surface, it’s a classic case of schizophrenia. But I would need to evaluate her further to get a more precise opinion of her as a person. Though the schizophrenia might make that difficult.”

“You think she’s innocent?” Nigel asked.

Sam’s head shot up at him. “I just met her, Nigel. I don’t know what she is. But I’m gonna get to the bottom of it. You can count on that.”

* * *

_“I think you oughta be nicer to him,” Dragon said later that night._

_“I beg your pardon?”_

_“I only let you do the talking so I could gauge my own perspective of Sam. And… I like him.”_

_“Don’t tell me you’re bi. Not that I mind or care, just think it would be weird…”_

_“I have no perception of sexuality my dear. But I want to keep him around. Just long enough to try and manipulate him.”_

_“Whatever you want dude. I don’t really care anymore. He would’ve been more useful to me if he’d come in with a gun and demanded I lay down so he could shoot me executioner’s style.”_

_“Now now, this is no time to be soppy. We have all the time in the world. And apparently Sam does too.”_

_“And that means what, exactly?”_

_“I could hear his thoughts outside the door. He’s determined to find out a way to help you, and he doesn’t appear to be the kind who gives up on a challenge easily. So, I say we give him that challenge. Sounds like fun, doncha think?”_

_He did that stupid thing again. You could feel it coming on. Where one minute you were in control of how you felt and then you would just lose all control over it. Like all it took was for your heart to beat a certain way and he was…you._

_“Yeah….” you thought, feeling like your own voice inside your head wasn’t yours. “Let’s play with Sam.”_


	6. Are You Even Hearing Me?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam continues to butt heads with reader. She’s confident in her innocence. Sam is influenced by his colleagues and doesn’t listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there are some dialogue that are from Sam’s POV and they’re in bold italics.

**_These last 5 weeks I feel like I’ve been ramming my head into the wall. Y/N absolutely will not cooperate with me. Or any of the Mandrel staff. She won’t even give it an inch. And it concerns me. What is on the other side of her skull? Is she purposefully trying to be difficult?_ **

**_I see an innocent girl in there somewhere. I can_ feel _an innocent girl in there._**

**_I can’t explain it. Especially not to my colleagues. They teach you in medical school to always go with your gut instinct, not emotion. I have the strangest feeling I’m going to be relying on both with Y/N. And that this feeling will take me to places I never thought I’d ever go._ **

* * *

Sam sat across from you in her room. It’s been the same dance over and over again. Him talking, and you ignoring him, but instead talking to yourself. He might as well have been talking to his shoes. But he had to persist. One of these days, you were going to break.

Not that he wanted things to happen like that. He would’ve preferred you just open up to him. But if push comes to shove, he’d switch tactics and go hardcore mode. His colleagues were really starting to rub off on him and he didn’t like that at all. But what choice did he have? They were superior to him in tenure so he had to rely on someone for advice and knowledge that books didn’t offer.

The conversation from the Staff Only room the other day played in the back of his mind as you were laughing at nothing.

**_“Hey Sam, how’s Y/N been?”_ **

**_“Don, you know I can’t discuss her case with you. HIPAA law, yeah?”_ **

**_“I didn’t ask if you’d diagnosed her yet, I asked how she was.”_ **

**_I sighed. These assholes are so fucking persistent. And it was really starting to get annoying. If I needed a consultation, I’d just call Dean. I trust him more than these Professor ass-kissing knob jockeys. Don just happened to be at the top of the list._ **

**_“I don’t care what you specifically asked Don,” I replied with a bite to my voice. Don didn’t like that, given the scowl forming on his face. “What is going on between me and my patient is strictly confidential. You know that. So don’t ask again.”_ **

**_“You’re such a prude, Winchester,” Don bit back. He’d been doing this for 20 years and had some sort of superiority complex. He didn’t like it when anyone stood up to him, especially someone with only 5 weeks tenure like myself. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing to do. You can’t help her. She’s a fucking mess and she’s doomed to die here. Just accept it and move onto a case where you can put all those fancy degrees to use.” And with that, Don walked out of the room, coffee and a donut in hand._ **

**_I was seething as he left. I couldn’t possibly fathom what he had done to be able to work in this industry for 20 plus years if THAT was his attitude. Again, I tried not to take it personally. I have no idea what goes on when I’m not around. As much as I wanted to follow him and clock him in the face, I knew that wasn’t the right option. I had to remain open minded._ **

**_Just like I had to do with Y/N._ **

* * *

“Why won’t you listen to me?” Sam exclaimed during one of your many sessions out of nowhere.

You looked up from where you were previously staring. “I’m sorry?”

“Y/N, we’ve been at this for weeks. I have come in here every weekday for over a month just to get ignored and leave tired and frustrated. I am trying to best to be patient with you. It is common for some psychosis patients to take weeks even months to open up to a therapist. But, at best, that happens when the patients actually talks to their doctor. I may as well have been talking to your chair.”

_“he would look funny talking to the chairs. Then he would need to be in here with you. Ooooh bunk buddies!”_

_“Oh my god shut up Dragon.”_

_“I have feelings you know”_

You took a deep breath. “It’s like I told you before, Dr. Winchester. You cannot help me. No one can.”

“Y/N, for the hundredth time, you can call me Sam. Unless you prefer to call me by my title. I want you to be comfortable around me.”

_“what should I do? How long are we gonna keep playing this game, Dragon?”_

_“I’m still bored. Keep it up.”_

_“Dragon…”_

_“he can’t know. Unless you want him dead too. You will keep playing this game until I say so.”_

“I’m innocent. I know I am. I would never kill my family!” you could feel the tears coming on. You tried to wipe them away but it was too late.

“Why do you think you’re innocent?” Sam said, relieved. He felt like they were finally moving along. He pulled out her chart and his notebook and prepared to take notes.

“I…I just am. I have no idea why I did what I did. I don’t remember any of it.”

_“bitch”_

_“what?”_

_“I said keep playing the game.”_

_“I’m sorry Dragon, I can’t take it anymore.”_

Sam’s ears perked up. “You don’t remember committing your crimes?”

You could feel like the weight that’s been on your shoulders since high school was finally starting to weigh less. “No. Last thing I remember was being kicked out of my house. I got into a fight with my parents. And they threw me out. I was walking towards the homeless shelter on Chicago’s lower side.”

Sam was elated on the inside. You were finally talking! If circumstances made it appropriate, he would be jumping for joy. As cheesy as that sounded, it felt right.

“What was the altercation about? Do you remember that?” Sam asked.

_“alright plan B. Keep talking.”_

_“seriously?”_

_“my love, I am full of surprises. And plenty of plans. Because let’s face it. When does Plan A ever work?”_

You knew Dragon was scheming something fierce, but ignored it for the time being. He was allowing you to open up. You were so sick and tired of being his bitch, his puppet. Living your life by his rules. If he had allowed it, you would’ve killed yourself a long time ago. But when you tried to slit your wrists a few years back, the open and bleeding skin somehow closed up on its own. It was like magic. But try explaining that to a shrink.

“I tore my room apart. I was angry about something,” you continued, Sam eyeing you while writing things down on his pad of paper. “My parents decided instead of calling the cops, they just threw me out. As if that would solve all their problems.”

“It says here in your file you had two brothers. How old were they?” Sam asked.

“Younger,” was all you said. Your family, especially your baby brothers, were the last thing you wanted to discuss. “young enough that I could’ve been charged with endangering minors. I don’t want to talk about them.”

Sam nodded.

“I woke up in the back of a patrol car after it was all said and done. I swear it wasn’t me! I-I…I had no control over myself.” You stammered, tears threatening to spill out.

Sam finished his notations, then set his pen down in his lap. He read over everything.

Then he sighed a frustrated sigh.

“Y/N,” Sam began, massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers. “Like I said before, I am here to help you. But lying to me isn’t going to help either of us. You have GOT to be honest with me.”

You stared at him, flabbergasted. Then just sighed a frustrated sigh of your own, and got up from your chair, pacing the room.

“You know what, screw you!” you shouted, pointing a finger at Sam. “I told you from the beginning you can’t help me. NO ONE CAN! I don’t need you. I don’t need your help. You’re just like everyone else. ARE YOU EVEN HEARING ME?!”

Sam just continued staring at her with a blank expression. Though on the surface, it looked like he was being judgmental. But he was actually studying her. The way she gestured, the volume and pitch of her voice, how much emotion she back her words up with. She continued yelling at him until there was a knock at her door.

“Dr. Winchester? Miss Y/L/N? Is everything alright in there?” a voice called out. It sounded like Tiffany.

“Yes, we’re okay,” Sam called back as he got up from his chair. He approached the door and opened it. “Our session had just ended. I’ll be back tomorrow.” And without another glance at you, Sam walked out the door, leaving Tiffany still in the doorway.

You stared after him incredulously.

_“liar liar suit pants on fire” dragon said sleepily._

_“he’s just like the others”_

_“don’t tell me you’re surprised, ducky. No one is supposed to believe you.”_

_“you’re starting to get real annoying, Dragon.”_

_“hey I’m just here for the entertainment value. I could’ve left at any time.”_

_“whatever. You know you have nowhere else to go if you leave my head”_

_“I’ll let your imagination run with that”_

You wondered what the hell he meant by that. But that was a matter for another time. Your main concern was Sam.

You didn’t understand him or his motives at all. How could he say he wants to help you, if he didn’t want to listen to you? Maybe he was right. Maybe you needed to be honest with him. About everything.

But you had no idea how you were gonna get to that with Dragon constantly on your mind. Literally.

* * *

**_Walking out was the dumbest thing I did that day. How could I do that to her?_ **

**_I broke one of my own rules. Go with your instincts. And my instincts were currently screaming at me to walk back in there and apologize. And really listen to her._ **

**_But I kept walking. I walked out of that building and towards my car. I got in the driver seat, brought my Charger to life and drove back to my parent’s house._ **

**_Stupid. Stupid stupid, Sam. What the fuck is wrong with me?_ **

**_Y/N was crying out for help. Her outburst was all the proof that was needed. I could read it all over her. The way she was on the verge of tears with every shout, the minute but very important way she pointed her finger at me, her pacing back and forth, venting out her frustrations._ **

**_Maybe she was innocent._ **

**_But I needed more proof, more evidence. And like I’d told her before, she needed to be completely up front with me if I was going to see that._ **

**_I can’t give up on her. I can’t give up on this case. If I did, I may as well go home and burn all of my Stanford degrees. Watch all those years of hard work and persistence rise up into the sky in the form of ash and smoke._ **

**_No. I’m Dr. Sam Winchester, MD. Forensic Psychologist. But more than that, a fucking Winchester._ **

**_I don’t give up on anything._ **


	7. She’s Something Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader, despite the voice’s protests and threats, decides to open up to Sam about everything, ready to seek the help that Sam has been desperately offering. Sam starts to sees her in a different light.

To say you were exhausted was an understatement.

Dragon had been talking constantly. He just would not shut the fuck up. You hadn’t slept in days and you were starting to see things that weren’t there, which was unusual for you because normally you only heard things that weren’t there.

You were given every sedative on the market to try and get you to sleep, but they didn’t work. If anything, they made you more wired instead of tired. And they seemed to act like caffeine to Dragon because he talked a lot more, and a lot faster it seemed.

You were full of regret. For everything since Sam became your psychologist. You were starting to feel that he was there to help you, but you were pushing him away. That was the last thing you needed to be doing.

Sam was your only line to freedom, or something close to it.

* * *

You were lying down on your bed in a state of delirium when Sam came in that morning. He was so concerned for your well-being, he said he would “be right back” and when he returned, he didn’t have his usual set of notebooks and notepads, but a black leather bag.

He approached you gingerly, placing his hands on your face to try and stir you. Your eyes just kind of rolled around in their respective sockets, unfocused.

“Y/N can you hear me?” Sam’s voice was soft, gentle. It felt like he was there as a friend, not as your doctor. “It’s Sam, talk to me! What’s going on?” He paused for a second to see if you’d respond, and when you didn’t he rolled you onto your back. You felt his calloused fingers press gently into the side of your neck. You didn’t recognize Sam or the fact that he was trying to make sure you were alive.

“Shit,” Sam breathed. He let go of your head and it rolled to the side. You could hear him rummaging through his bag. Next thing you knew he was wrapping something cloth-like and cold around your upper arm. “Y/N, I’m gonna get your blood pressure. Hey! You with me?” He kept calling out to you, but it barely registered.

He placed the earpieces of his stethoscope in his ears and started pumping up the cuff on your arm. It wasn’t until it was as tight as it needed to be that you noticed he was even in the room. You started struggling against it. Sam had to hold you down.

“Hey! Hey hey, it’s okay, Y/N. I’ve got you. Let me check you out, okay?” Sam’s voice soothed you in a way you’d never felt before. You couldn’t explain it. He finished with the blood pressure cuff and placed two fingers on the anterior side of your wrist to take your pulse, looking at his watch.

“I’m…so tired…” you breathed as he flashed a penlight into your eyes.

“I know, Y/N,” Sam said, again with the calm tone of voice.

 _“How could he be so collected about this?”_ you thought.

_“He likes you”_

_“He does not, Dragon. Don’t talk nonsense. He’s my doctor.”_

_“So?”_

_“So…..I’m sure he’s got a wife or fiancé somewhere. Besides, again, I’m his patient. It’s not like he’d go for a nutjob like me.”_

_“He’s gone for a lot less.”_

_“How would you know that? Oh…right. Mind reading?”_

_“I knew all about this strapping young lad before he even came to say hello to you your first day here. He had a girlfriend during his Stanford days, but they ended it so he could move back here. Probably figured he’d find love in his hometown.”_

_“Wait, he’s from here?”_

_“Samuel William Winchester. Born the 2nd day of May in 1983 in Lawrence, Kansas. Youngest son to John Winchester and Mary Campbell, younger brother to Dean Michael Winchester, born four years prior on the 24th day of January in 1979. Also of Lawrence, also a doctor.”_

_“His brother is a doctor too?”_

_“Mhmm. Head of Trauma Surgery at the Douglas County Regional Medical Center, also in Lawrence. Not too far from here, actually.”_

_“Huh…”_

You pondered on that. Sam was a doctor, as was his brother Dean. Sam must come from a long line of smart people. Sam was putting away his stethoscope and other equipment into his bag when you started attempting to sit up. When you almost fell over, Sam helped you.

Sam crouched down so he was eye-level with you. He gave you a small smile, which sent your heart into a flutter. Why was he having such an effect on you?

“How are you, Y/N?” he asked.

“Tired…” you responded.

“So I’m told. Dr. Withman didn’t want any other doctor messing with you until I examined you myself. To determine if you needed to go to a more…sophisticated hospital. See, this place is great for dealing with mental illness, but if you’re physically sick, that’s an even greater place to be.”

“Do…” you stifled a yawn. “do I need to go?”

“No. Not right now anyway. What you’re going through right now is a result from your psychosis. Whatever is keeping you awake, that needs to be addressed. Besides, you were already given a bunch of different sedatives, and they didn’t work. Nobody will be able to give you any more for another several hours.”

You held your breath for a moment, avoiding Sam’s eye contact.

_“I’m warning you, woman, don’t do it.”_

_“I have to”_

_“He’ll die, I’ll make sure of it.”_

_“So will I if I don’t straighten up!”_

_“That’s not your problem and you know it”_

“Dragon.”

_“You fucking bitch!”_

Sam looked up at you with a confused look. “I’m sorry?”

_“You will regret this. And so will he.”_

You took a deep breath, trying not to let Dragon’s last statement scare you. You needed to do this. For yourself. “The voice in my head. His name is Dragon.”

For the first time, Sam saw you in a different way.

* * *

You spilled your heart and soul out to Sam about literally everything, leaving no stone unturned. Everything from your earliest childhood memory, to your angsty gothic teen years, to more recently, when your former employer died. You left out the part about your most recent crime, as Sam already knew all he could about it. It was an hour and a half later when you were finished telling your story, and you were slightly winded. You were so exhausted; talking for long periods of time took your breath away. Sam offered to get you some oxygen, but you declined, assuring him it wasn’t that bad.

He didn’t try to interrupt you as you talked. He just…listened. Listened patiently and waited until you believed you were done before speaking or asking questions. Nobody ever listened to you with such intensity before. It was refreshing.

“It’s like I have no control over my body when he takes over.”

“How do you feel when he does?” Sam and you were sitting on the edge of your bed. He’d removed most of his suit layers and his dress shirt was unbuttoned and untucked, revealing his undershirt. You could see he was dedicated to his workout regime. He was buff. You caught yourself staring but Sam didn’t notice. Then you realized Sam had asked you a question.

“Sometimes I just feel…different. Like all it takes is a single normal heartbeat and suddenly he’s here and I’m not.” You took a deep breath. “Dragon decides when he wants to come out and ‘play,’ as he calls it.” If that made Sam flinch, he didn’t show it. You were sure you were scaring him.

“And that’s what happened that night, right? Your heart beat a certain way and then you woke up in the back of a cruiser, your family gone and your house burned down?”

“Yes.” Another deep breath escaped your lips. “I was almost immediately convicted and committed here. I was going to plead not guilty. Not by reason of insanity, just not guilty. I wanted to fight this. But I wasn’t afforded the opportunity.”

“That should’ve never happened,” Sam said, shaking his head. It broke his heart that you were robbed of your legal right as an American citizen for due process, especially when your father fought for those rights. “And unfortunately, unless you want to have the case reopened, and go through the very costly and lengthy process of challenging the ruling, there isn’t anything that can be done about it. I’m so sorry.”

“I thought about it at first. But then I thought, what was the point?” you sighed. “They didn’t listen to me then, why would they a second time?”

Sam looked at you, and you could almost see his heart breaking. You weren’t sure if he was just taking pity on you, or if he was genuinely sad you got fucked over in life.

“I’m sorry if none of this make any sense. I’ve never had to explain this to anyone before. Not like it’s my fault. You’re the first person who’s ever wanted to know.”

“I’m not just some tall, shaggy haired doc who talks to crazy people,” Sam said smiling. That made both of you laugh. His laugh was melodious, had a sweetness to it, and was higher pitched when he was laughing hard. You could listen to it all day long. “But seriously, Y/N. You can talk to me about this sort of thing. I’m here for you.”

For the first time, you believe him. Believed _in_ him. Without thinking, you took Sam’s large hands into hers and held them.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at him and smiling for the first time. Sam noticed, and it made his heart flutter.

“For what?” Sam asked.

“For being the first person ever to hear me out, to really listen to me. You do believe me, don’t you?” You held your breath waiting for Sam’s answer.

“I do.”

You immediately started crying. Sam took you into his arms as sobs racked your body, making you shake so hard it looked like you were convulsing. He rubbed large, comforting circles between your shoulder blades, and you sobbed into his chest. After about fifteen minutes of consistent crying, Sam noticed your breathing had evened out, and you were asleep for the first time in several days. He wasn’t sure what influenced him, but he decided to let you sleep on his chest as long as you needed. He managed to re-position you so he could lay back on your bed. He was sure you could hear the steady beating of his heart. He absentmindedly yet gently pressed your head closer into his chest, making the sound of his heart more pronounced. He stroked your hair as you slept.

You unconsciously wrapped your arms around Sam’s waist as you slept, his calm heartbeat your soothing lullaby. Sam was warm and soft, and your head seemed to fit perfectly in the center of his chest. For the first time in your life, you felt….loved.

And for the first time since leaving Stanford, Sam felt that spark. The same spark he felt when he realized he was in love with Jessica.

Hindsight was definitely 20/20 because Sam could not foresee the amount of trouble those feelings were about to cause him.


	8. Off Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam starts visiting reader on his off time, trying to convince himself it’s related to the case. But soon he can’t deny he may be falling for her. When the reader starts to realize this herself, she questions how she feels about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: FLUFF, ANGST, SELF DOUBT, CONFRONTATION

Add this to the list of things Sam can’t seem to explain. At least to himself.

Ever since that day where you’d opened up to him, he felt the need to be around you. Constantly. So after a discussion with you and the Professor, Sam decided to come up to the asylum every day, whether it was for a session or not. He explained that the constant positive interaction was good for your psychological well-being. Having someone there to just hang out with you helped with your social and mental state, instead of just being there to treat you as a patient. You didn’t object as you liked having Sam around. He made you feel…normal. Like you mattered in the world. Like you weren’t the murderous psychopath everyone, and your actions, had made you out to be.

But deep down in Sam’s gut, he had this nagging feeling that all he was doing was lying to himself. Completely ignoring the real issues and burying them deep down in his heart instead. When you had the energy to shower and clean up, you smelled wonderful to him. The shampoo and conditioner that the asylum provided for you had a sweet flowery scent to it. He also noticed that when you touched him, your hands were very soft and delicate, in contrast to his own rough and calloused hands. He wasn’t a stranger to hard labor, and the skin on his hands displayed that.

Sam supposed that maybe he just wanted to get to know you better, and that would also benefit the case and help him eventually help you. But in truth, he just wanted to know you for no reason at all.

The company was nice when Sam came around. You never thought you’d get to this point in your life. To have a real friend. Someone who was there because they wanted to be, not because it was required. He asked all sorts of questions that you knew had nothing to do with the case. Things like what your favorite flower was, or favorite type of cuisine, or the best concert you’d ever been to. That last one led to an in depth discussion of the psychological reasons why Soundgarden disbanded. You admitted you cried when it was announced on TV, and bought every single Soundgarden album on the CD shelves.  You also admitted you’d had a HUGE crush on Chris Cornell back in the 90s and were thrilled when he started Audioslave up. Sam’s face lit up when he proudly announced that he had been to every single Audioslave concert that came to Kansas.

Today the two of you were playing board games as it was raining outside. The asylum had a 50s version of Monopoly laying around and it was the only board game that still had all its pieces and components. It was better than nothing, so you and Sam broke it out, set it up and began playing.

“Are you gonna leave any hotels for me or what?” Sam said with a laugh while holding the deeds for Kentucky, Illinois, and Indiana Avenues.

“You do know what the word ‘monopoly’ means, right Doctor?” you retorted with a laugh of your own. Sam stuck his tongue out at you and you returned the gesture, which only led to more fits of laughter from you two.

Sam eventually folded and you were declared the winner. You did a victory lap around your room while gloating playfully. Sam acted like he was angry and sat with his arms crossed against his chest and a silly scowl on his face. Then the sound of his watch made you stop.

“Damn is it 5 o’clock already? Guess I lost track of time kicking your ass at a silly board game.”

“Need I remind you Y/N, y _ou_ were the one who thought it was silly until you started winning.” Sam said.

The two of you started cleaning up the game and Sam went to go put it back in the supply closet. You would’ve followed if you were allowed to. Despite him quickly becoming your best friend, you were still his patient and you had strict rules laid out against you.

“Sorry to cut it so short today.” Sam said, gathering up his jacket. “I promised my mother I would come home for dinner. My brother is going to be home for dinner tonight for the first time in several weeks so we’re making it a family affair.”

“Finally got a break from the long hours at the hospital, huh?”

Sam blinked. “How did you know my brother worked at the hospital?”

You tapped the side of your head with two fingers. “Dragon told me all about you and your family. He says he knows everything.”

Sam suddenly felt uneasy. You took notice and did some damage control so that it didn’t scare him off. That would be the last straw to staying on this planet topside.

“That’s why I never asked anything about you personally. Dragon told me anything I wanted to know. He’s like freaking Google. Ask a question and he’ll have the answer.”

This did nothing to easy Sam’s queasiness. If anything it created more questions. He was wondering if he needed to stay behind and have an impromptu session, get into more detail as to who, or what, exactly Dragon was. There were things about Sam that he wanted nobody to know about, least of all you. Secrets he guarded close to his heart like his very lifeline. If Dragon knew about them, it made you a lot more dangerous than he originally anticipated.

But he decided that he was being over-dramatic and made a mental note to talk in depth about it at the next scheduled session. He didn’t want to incur the wrath of Mary Campbell Winchester when she demanded her boys be home for dinner.

“Hey. You okay Sam?” you noticed Sam was staring into space and your voice snapped him out of it.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Sam lied. “I gotta get going. Same time tomorrow?”

“You bet, doctor.” That got Sam to roll his eyes. He held out his arms for you to receive a hug and you gladly accepted the invitation. He seemed to hug you a bit tighter with each visit, something you not only took notice to, but welcomed. Although on the inside, Sam had the intense urge to kiss you.

 _Damnit Sam snap out of it,_ he thought. _She’s your patient. Doctors don’t kiss their patients._

“Be careful out there, Sam. I would imagine the roads are slick with rain.”

Sam put his right hand over his heart and held up the left one, “you have my word, Miss Y/L/N.” He winked at you, and your legs suddenly felt like jello.

As Sam was leaving, you went to your barred window to watch him get into his car and drive away. You never noticed he drove a sports car. A sleek black Dodge Charger. It was a nice fit for him. You supposed he could afford to drive a fancy car and assumed this place paid him well enough for such a luxury.

You imagined for a minute that the two of you were in that Charger, driving down a dusty highway with the top down. Sam was driving and you were in the passenger seat and he was driving at least 90 miles an hour, the wind rippling through yours and his hair. You looked him in all his windblown glory and you moved over to lay down in his lap. All he could do while driving was stroke your head lovingly. You enjoyed his touch immensely.

_“you’re falling for him Y/N”_

_“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing Dragon…”_

* * *

Sam made it home in time to catch a shower and changed into a comfy set of pajama pants, a faded blue T-shirt and his old Stanford hoodie. His mother liked to keep the house relatively cool no matter the time of year so hoodies and sweaters were part of the Winchester household uniform. He walked downstairs towards the kitchen and could smell the beef and potato stew Mary was making. It made his stomach groan to be fed.

“Someone’s hungry,” Mary called from the other side of the kitchen. Sam placed a hand over his stomach and blushed slightly.

“Guilty as charged.” Sam replied. He approached his mother, towering over her 5’6 frame with his 6’4 frame, and bent over to kiss her on the cheek. “So when’s this delicious concoction going to be ready?”

“In about 20 minutes,” Mary said. “If you wouldn’t mind setting the table for me that would be great.”

“Happy to help,” Sam called out as he made his way to the hutch in the dining room. He pulled out enough plates, bowls, forks, knives, spoons, and cups for a family of four. He also grabbed the place mats Mom preferred, claiming it “preserves the Oakwood table that your father paid a fortune for.” Once the table was set, he heard the front door open, and two sets of voices drifting into the house.

“Damn Dad that’s rough.” Sam recognized the voice belonged to Dean.

“Eh we made it work. Kinda part of the job,” the other voice belonged to Sam’s father John. It was clear that Dean and John both got home from work at the same time as John was still in his Sheriffs uniform and Dean was still dressed in his scrubs with his job shirt over it, bearing the Douglas County Regional Medical Center logo on the left side of his chest. John and Dean made their way toward the kitchen.

“Sammy! Good to see you son.” John exclaimed, patting Sam on the back. “Oh wait, do they not call you Sammy at work? I’m told you’re the prestigious Dr. Winchester. My apologies, sir.”

“Ha-ha,” Sam mocked, but smiling. He gave his dad a quick hug before being practically tackled by Dean.

“Sup little brother!” Dean reached up to ruffle Sam’s hair. It was embarrassing for Dean that his baby brother was 3 inches taller than he was so Sam, playing the part of the kid brother, stood on his tiptoes so that Dean struggled. Dean punched him in the arm. Sam punched him back.

“Boys,” Mary called out, “if you want to roughhouse, I suggest taking it outside. I think the mud puddle you two used to play in as a kid hasn’t dried up yet. Especially since it’s been raining all day.”

“Yeah, Sammy, c’mon I challenge you to a mud wrestling match. Just like in the good old days!” Dean chuckled.

“Pass.” Sam said apathetically. “I’m too hungry to pretend we’re 10 again.”

Dean stuck his tongue out at him.

“Real mature, Dean.” Sam said with a slight grin before pulling his older brother into a hug. “It’s good to have you home.”

“Glad to be here,” Dean said before getting a beer from the fridge and taking his place at the dining room table. It was a simple but study solid oak square table with four chairs. John sat at the head of the table, which was closest to the front door, Mary sat to his left. Sam sat opposite of John and Dean sat opposite of Mary. The Winchester men were all seated in their respective places while Mary brought the stew to the table, along with some steamed asparagus and some homemade yeast rolls. She knew how her boys could eat the entire house out if left to their own devices, so she made sure to make enough for seconds and thirds. Sam would definitely be getting third helpings. He loved his mother’s stew recipe. It was an old Campbell’s tradition to have stew on ill weathered days.

Conversation flowed naturally between the Winchesters. Mary asked about John’s day and he told her it was same old stuff. Ran a few calls and supervised on others. John asked about Dean’s shift and he said it was rough and that he’d rather not talk about it, claiming he was just glad to be home. Dean inquired about Mary’s attempt at getting a job in the ICU at the hospital he worked at.

“I got a call back for a final interview on Monday. If everything goes well, I’ll be Douglass County’s newest ICU Nursing Supervisor.”

“That’s great, Mom!” Sam exclaimed.

“I’m proud of you baby.” John said, kissing his wife on the cheek. Then he raised his beer bottle up. “I’d like to propose a toast to my wonderful smart wife and your talentedly beautiful mother, boys.” Sam and Dean both raised their beers up and Mary raised her glass of wine up. “She kicked nursing school in the ass and now she’s gonna kick some serious ass in the ICU. To Mary!”

“To Mom!” the brother said at the same time. The Winchesters clinked glasses together and drank.

“So Sam,” Mary asked after a few minutes of nothing but munching and chewing between the four of them. “How was work today?”

“Wait, I thought you had the day off,” Dean said with a mouthful of rolls. Mary shot him a look, which caused him to swallow involuntarily.

“I did but I went in today to hang out with Y/N.” Sam said.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, Sam.” Mary said with concern. “We hardly see you anymore.”

“I know, but I believe it’s helping her case. Normalized social interaction can do wonders for the psychological well-being of a patient.”

“True,” Dean spoke up, “But you’ve been going over there a lot more than someone who’s trying to normalize her social well-being, bro.”

“So she needs more than what’s considered standard. You make it sound like that’s against the rules, Dean.”

“I’m just saying, be careful. You may see it that way, we may see it that way, but others, especially your dickbag colleagues, might not. And some have influence over the higher ups.” Dean took a swig of his beer before continuing. “I know your boss Nigel personally. Guy’s a laid back chill dude. But if enough people speak up about certain things, he won’t be able to ignore them.”

“Riveting as stories go Dean,” Sam said in a bored tone. “But if you’ve got a point, please make it. My second helpings are getting cold.”

“Are you falling for her?”

John choked on his asparagus. Mary gave Dean an incredulous look. Dean kept up his stone cold expression, boring straight into Sam’s eyes. Sam just glared at him, mouth slightly open.

“Why the hell would you ask me that? I’m her doctor. She’s my patient.”

“Hasn’t stopped others in the past.”

“Yeah well, I’m not everyone else. I worked hard for this job and the credentials to back it up. I’m not about to throw it away for anything.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t have to. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not one of your interns. I don’t owe you an explanation for anything.”

“So you are falling for her. You can get reported for that.”

“Why the fuck do you care anyway?!”

“Alright you two that’s enough!”

John spoke louder than either of them to silence the conversation once and for all. Sam and Dean looked at their father. John cleared his throat before speaking again.

John spoke calmly this time “I’d like to implement a new rule. Work is to be left at the front door. Short of ‘I had a great day today!’ or ‘today sucked, do we have any whiskey?’ it is not to be discussed. I know that’s going to be difficult considering we all have our lives, but suck it up and find a way. Technically we’re breaking federal law discussing Y/N’s case at our dinner table.”

“But considering we’re all more or less formally trained on HIPAA laws,” Mary chimed in. Sam was avoiding everyone’s eye contact. “I don’t see this leaving the house. But your father is right, boys. This discussion ends now. Dean, Sam’s case will become your business if he asks for a consultation.” Mary eyed her oldest son, who was now noticing how very green his asparagus was. Mary looked at Sam. “And Sam. I won’t say anymore on the subject. It is not my place to judge, nor anyone else’s. I know you will use your best judgement as a healthcare professional no matter what situation comes up. I think I speak on behalf of everyone at this table when I say that we’re very proud of you and all your accomplishments.”

Sam looked at his mother and saw she was beaming at him. He smiled back but not as big. “Thanks Mom.”

“Who wants dessert?” John called out in a lively tone, obviously trying to change the subject.

* * *

Everyone but Sam indulged in dessert. He took care of his dishes and decided to turn in early, kissing his mom goodnight and saying goodnight to his dad and brother. He headed upstairs to his room, stripped out of everything but his boxers, and crawled under the covers. Normally at night he would turn on his nightstand light and do some pleasure reading, but his mind was too full to take in anything else.

**_What if they’re right, I thought to myself. I couldn’t believe Dean made such a spectacle about my interactions with Y/N. The audacious bastard, I thought bitterly. He’d never even met the girl, so who the hell was he to express an opinion on the matter?_ **

**_But when I really thought about it, leaving no thought alone, it hit me like a ton of bricks. And I felt extremely stupid and naïve for not seeing it sooner._ **

**_I_ was _falling in love with Y/N. Head over heels, on cloud nine when I’m around her, heart racing, sweaty palms, falling in love._**

**_I love her. I love her with my whole heart. God she was so beautiful. And she was a wreck physically as much as she was mentally and emotionally. I could only imagine how drop dead gorgeous she would be if she fixed her hair and put on some make up. Wore something other than the in-patient scrubs she was issued at admittance. I could feel my heart rare increasing as I thought more and more about her physique._ **

**_Dean was right. This was going to complicate things._ **

**_I have to tell her._ **

* * *

It was late at night and you were laying in your bed after lights out. You hadn’t heard anything from Dragon all day, so you welcomed the silence. You’d pretty much forgotten what it was like to hear nothing on the inside of your skull. You wondered if this is what it felt like to be normal.

Though it would’ve been normal if a certain shaggy haired, hazel eyed doctor wasn’t filling your thoughts.

Sam.

You decided not to beat around the bush anymore. You thought back to your interactions with him over the last several days.

He’d started coming in pretty much every day since you opened up to him and he stayed with you long after your scheduled therapy session had ended, just talking about anything and everything. While it was so comforting to have a friend, you noticed little things.

He was always looking at you. And not in a stalker kinda way, but more like…admiring. He was admiring the way you looked. And when he spoke, he was very careful on how he worded his sentences. Almost as if he was afraid to offend you. _I thought part of being a doctor was telling their patient how it was, not really caring about their feelings until after what needed to be said was said._ He said at one point that him coming in on his off time was supposed to be for your mental well-being. And while you could definitely see the improvements on your mood, you couldn’t help but feel he was full of shit. He was making an excuse to come and see you more because he liked you.

A lot.

The question was, did you like him the same way? Sure, you were slowly starting to consider Sam your best friend. But that didn’t automatically mean dating material. He was handsome, and had a nice body that he obviously took good care of, and you could get lost in his eyes, and the way his heart beat when you laid next to him. You would feel a certain way around him yourself, so maybe the potential was there? You could almost see him as your boyfriend. He had that…look about him.

You didn’t know, and you were going to need more time to figure this out. You were pretty sure it was against the rules for a patient to be in a relationship with their doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was super fun to write! I hope y’all enjoyed it! Y'all probably noticed the little mini-tribute I did for Chris Cornell, who died the day I originally wrote this chapter. His death hit me very hard and I wanted to commemorate what he meant to me in the form of my art. I live for your kudos and comments.


	9. Unprofessional Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After weeks of Sam and the reader seeing each other for “professional” reasons, Sam decides to make his move, telling her exactly how he feels. But it doesn’t go the way he thought it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is told purely from Sam and Y/N’s POV. Sam’s POV is in the usual bold italics, Reader’s in plain italics. I live for your feedback, love, kudos and comments! 
> 
> Just as a reminder, none of the GIFs I post here are mine. They're either from Tumblr or I found them on Bing. I'm not that talented unfortunately lol.

**_My original plan was to talk to Y/N the following day about my feelings for her. But when a Winchester makes a plan, it seems it’s destined to fail before it’s put into motion_ **

**_I played through everything I wanted to do the night before in my head. I’d make sure it was just the two of us in her room. I’d bring her her favorite candy and a soda, and just…spill it out. I couldn’t believe I was even thinking about doing this. But I had to, considering I was leaving the convenience store with a few candy bars and a can of Cherry Coke. I knew this would probably end my employment with Mandrel so I was already looking for work elsewhere over breakfast. I had to eat in my room so that my family wouldn’t be suspicious. After that night when Dean confronted me about the case, I couldn’t bear to talk about anything work related anymore. It was too risky._ **

**_I walked into the building and did my usual routine. After clocking in and Susan checked my blood pressure, I went straight for Y/N’s room. But she wasn’t there._ **

**_The only other place she would be would be in the living room. Which was extremely unusual. One, she was strictly forbidden from mingling with the other patients. It was in her sentencing deal as she was labeled a ‘danger to the public.’ And two, even if she wasn’t restricted, she never was much for socialization._ **

**_I think that’s what made my personal visits so much more….damnit I can’t even find the right word to justify it anymore.  But she took to it with an open mind so there was that._ **

**_I went down to the living room and found everyone who was able to be there, except her. I swore under my breath. Where the hell could she be?_ **

* * *

_I knew Sam was coming back in today. It was Tuesday and on those days we would have our usual morning therapy session. But if the last several visits were any indication, I knew we were going to do anything but strict doctor/patient stuff._

_And that scared me._

_He liked me. In more than just the ‘you’re my best friend in the whole wide world’ liking. I wasn’t really afraid of whatever Sam was feeling towards me. In fact, I kinda like the idea that a guy was falling for me. I wasn’t sure what he’d seen in me that would make him feel that way, but I also wasn’t about to judge him for it. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as they say._

_I was afraid of Dragon. What he was capable of doing to Sam, by way of myself, well I’d be even crazier than I already was not to be afraid. I had no control over anything when Dragon took over. My thoughts, actions, feelings, they were all Dragon’s thoughts, actions, and feelings when he took the wheel. I’d grown to enjoy Sam’s company over these past few weeks and I didn’t want that to change. I especially didn’t want to hurt him. Physically or otherwise._

_So instead of waiting for him in my room like I did every morning, I hid. Like a coward I ran away to hide. Sadly I didn’t have a lot of options in the ways of hiding. Most of the public places around the asylum I was banned from. Couldn’t sit in the living room. I couldn’t even request to be there after socialization hour was done. It was too much of a risk, they told me. It didn’t bother me though. I understood why and I had no leg to stand on to argue it. If I’d hid in a closet or store room and someone found me, I could be suspected of planning an attack. It sounds ridiculous but I was still considered a high risk patient. So I did the only thing I could do. I called Tiffany over and asked for a one on one talk with Dr. Withman. The Professor was always one to be open to talking with patients, no matter how dangerous society labeled them. However Tiffany suggested that instead of me going to him, she would bring him to me. Not ideal as far as hiding from Sam went, but I took it. Maybe if Sam saw the two of us there, he’d think better of trying anything._

_God I made it sound like Sam was a threat, and he was anything but. If anything, I was more of a threat than he would ever be. But I was desperate. I was scared of what Sam might say to me today. Or any day at this point._

_I agreed with Tiffany and waited for the Professor to come by. It wasn’t a long wait, about 10 minutes, before there was a knock on my door._

_“Come in,” I said cheerfully. Man I was getting better at this. Maybe Sam’s counseling sessions were starting to help!_

_“Good morning Y/N,” Dr. Withman said. He smelled of aftershave and cigars, but it was welcoming. Reminded me of life outside the walls of this place. “How are we feeling today?” He approached me and felt the pulse in my wrist._

_“I’m feeling pretty good today, Doctor. Thank you.”_

_“Pulse is steady,” the Professor said more to himself than to me. He pulled up a chair and sat across from me, making eye contact. “I understand you wanted to speak to me. Is everything alright?”_

_“Yes Nigel everything is fine,” you assured him. “I just…” taking a deep breath, you continued. “It’s been great having Sam come in every day and hanging out with me. But I just wanted…someone else to talk to.” As soon as the words left your lips, you regretted it._

_“Are you becoming uncomfortable with Sam as your psychotherapist? I can have him replaced if-”_

_“NO!” you hadn’t meant to shout, but it didn’t seem to faze the aging Chief of Staff. “No, I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest anything against Dr. Winchester.”_

_You realized you needed to be very careful as to how you spoke about Sam to the his colleagues. The last thing you wanted was to cause any trouble for him._

* * *

**_I don’t know when the hell it happened, but I eventually went back to Y/N’s room and found her there. When did she slip back in? Was she avoiding me? It wasn’t like her. I guess it didn’t matter now. She was safe and sound._ **

**_“Hey,” I said, looking a lot more winded than I felt._ **

**_“Hey yourself,” she said in a pleasant tone. “you go for a lap around the premises?”_ **

**_“Actually,” I began, panting while taking my cardigan off. “I was looking for you. We had a therapy session scheduled for today and when I got here, you weren’t in your room. Where were you? It’s not like you’re allowed to wander this place of your own free will.”_ **

**_“Oh you know, around,” she said nonchalantly. That created a puzzled look on my face. “But that’s not important. I’m here now.” She gave me a pointed look. It caused me to hold my breath for a second. “Sam…”_ **

**_“Yes Y/N?” I sat down opposite of her on her bed. I wanted to make sure there was plenty of distance between us in the event she decided to throw me out. I was betting she might, considering what I was about to tell her._ **

**_“Is….is there something on your mind?”_ **

**_Wow. She sure doesn’t beat around the bush. Nor is she unobservant. I like that in a girl._ **

**_“Actually…there is.”_ **

**_No turning back now. I could feel how hard and fast my heart was beating with relative ease. I was pretty sure Y/N could see it if she was paying close enough attention. But she just kept her eyes on mine. It almost made me dizzy and lightheaded. I inched my way closer to her. I thought she was going to back away, but to my surprise, she inched closer to me. That only made my heart race more. Could she hear it? Probably. But that didn’t stop me._ **

**_“I can’t keep this from you any longer,” I began. Sometimes I wish I could remove my heart so I could speak better. Stupid thing tends to get in the way of a lot of things, heh. “I feel something between us. And I can’t deny it anymore. I’ll be honest with you. The whole reason I’ve been doing these off duty visits is…well because I wanted to be closer to you. To be_ with _you.”_**

**_“You’re falling for me,” was all Y/N breathed after a moment. She clearly was trying to take all this in. “I kinda suspected it. But I didn’t want to overstep my boundary. I’m a convicted murderer, Sam. What the hell do you see in me?”_ **

**_“I see an innocent girl who’s been tortured from the inside for a long time. That doesn’t make you dangerous.” I placed my hand gently on top of hers. She didn’t try to withdraw it. Progress. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you at first, but now I do. I see that it was a mistake not to. When I said I wanted to help you, I meant it. One hundred percent. But now…” I picked up her hands and brought it to my lips, kissing the top of her knuckles softly. “I want something more.”_ **

**_She let me kiss her fingers. Then she took that hand and caressed the side of my face. I closed my eyes and took in her touch, breathing deep the air around us. God her skin was so soft. I had to steady myself on the bed otherwise I would’ve fallen off. I took my hand and brushed some of her hair back behind her ear. She closed her eyes, bent her head down and smiled. I smiled back._ **

* * *

_I knew it. I fucking knew it. He was in love with me! How could I be so stupid to not see it? All those ‘visits.’ All those times of just hanging out. He didn’t want to be best friends. He wanted to be lovers._

_I can’t be in a relationship with my doctor! This is insane! And I definitely know insane, bearing in mind my current home of record. There’s no way it would work. He would be fired, or worse, possibly banned from practice. Didn’t he know the consequences of his actions? All of his hard work and accomplishments thrown out the window. Tossed aside like whoring trash. And for what? Me? ME?!_

_He…..he loves me._

_He loves me._

_Dr. Sam Winchester loves me._

_He knows me. He spent a good amount of time making sure of that._

_He knows I’m innocent._

_And somehow…he knows my heart. Way more than what it sounds like on the other end of a stethoscope or what it feels like in my wrist._

_He knows Dragon made me kill my family. And he believes me. That’s more than anyone else in my life has given me. I can see the truth he speaks when I look into his eyes._

_He has shown me he’s no reason to lie, so why would this be any different? He would never hurt me. He would never let anyone hurt me.  He would protect me from anything and everything. But could be really protect me from Dragon?_

_This was all too much. All these feelings and emotions…I barely remember falling off the bed and into his arms._

* * *

**_I barely caught her in time. She could’ve had a nasty head injury had she fallen onto the hard tile floor. I cradled her in my arms, worry etched all over my features._ **

**_“Y/N?” my voice came out in more of a panic than I wanted it to. But I couldn’t deny it. I caused this. And it scared me. Did I just ruin everything? Would she decide that she didn’t want me to be her doctor anymore? Would she ask for a replacement? That was neither here nor there. What matter right now was her waking up. “Hey, wake up. Come back to me, beautiful.” I patted her face lightly, hoping it would shake her from her unconsciousness. When that didn’t work, I picked her up off the floor and laid her down on top of the blanket of her bed. I took her pulse for safety’s sake. It wasn’t until I was satisfied with its rate and rhythm that she opened her eyes._ **

**_“Sam?” she said weakly._ **

**_“There you are,” I said quietly with a smile. “You scared me there for a moment.”_ **

**_“I’m sorry.”_ **

**_“It’s alright. I should be the one apologizing for this, I-”_ **

**_“You need to go.”_ **

**_That stopped me from what I was going to say. My heart dropped to my stomach. “What?”_ **

**_“I think you should leave. I need…I need time to think about this.”_ **

**_“Y/N, I’m sorry if I said-”_ **

**_“Just go, Sam. And don’t come back til next week. I…I don’t want to see you again…at least for right now.”_ **

**_What could I say? I couldn’t argue with her. I couldn’t say anything to make it better. This was going to take time. And I hated that._ **

**_I hated that I was pushing her away. Fucking hell. This has become such a mess._ **

**_I stood up, leaving her in bed, and grabbed my bag and jacket without making eye contact with her. “I’ll cancel our session for the week if you want. You have my direct phone number if you need to reach me in an emergency.”_ **

**_And with that, I left._ **

**_And I mourned ever coming to her in the first place._ **


	10. Am I The Cure?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to the awkwardness of their predicament, Sam only comes to see the reader for scheduled doctor/patient visits. Reader finally confronts Sam about the intimate encounter, despite his willingness to pretend it never happened. But where is Dragon in this, exactly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, SELF DOUBT, FLUFF, SMUT LIKE BEHAVIOR(?)

Y/N didn’t see Dr. Winchester for the rest of the week like he said. Which was fine by her. Like she had told him that day, she needed time to process.

Though she needn’t have bothered. All she had to do was look at the raw feelings and emotions she felt when she was with Sam.

Safety. Warmth. Comfort. Love.

That last one though. She’d never felt love before. Sure, she’d been loved by her parents and her little brothers. And she’d had a boyfriend or two in the past. But the last one wasn’t love, but more like flings. And the love a parent feels for their children or the way siblings love each other was completely different from what she was feeling now.

She remembered the dreams she’d had over the last few weeks. The ones of her and Sam, together-together. The way he would gently make love to her. The way he would cuddle her in bed, his arms the strong pillars of protection all while being soft and intimate around her.

_Fucking hell! Why am I overthinking this? Probably because it’s not simple at all._

Today was going to be Y/N’s first therapy session since Sam left that day. And today was the day she was going to make her move. She just hoped that her heart followed along with what was going on in her head.

* * *

“Your blood pressure and heart rate are elevated today, kiddo,” Susan said as she ripped the cuff off Sam’s bicep. He was fixing his sleeve as she started putting away her supplies. “156/94 and 128. Hypertension is known to be a silent killer for a reason. You been feeling alright, Sam? You’re not febrile are you?” She pushed Sam’s bangs back to feel his forehead.

“I’m fine,” Sam lied. Susan removed her hand from his head and he smoothed his hair back down as best he could. A futile effort. “Just been stressful these last few weeks, s’all. I don’t mean to worry you, Susan.” Truth was, he was extremely nervous about seeing you again. And he was mortified that his vital signs were reflecting that nervousness. He stood up. “I better get to it. Thanks again.”

“Uh huh,” Susan smiled. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

Sam nodded at her before heading back to your room. He could find it even if his eyes were gouged out. Left from Susan’s office, turn right at the end of the hall and around the corner, down that corridor to the elevator, floor 7. Right from the elevator, go through to the double doors that were badge accessible only, pass the living room, and all the way down to the last door. Your room also had a badge access only lock on it. And only certain physician has their badge configured to open it. And by certain physicians, that just meant the Professor, Susan Mackey, Tiffany Fleeman, and Sam.

He could hear his heartbeat pounding away in his ears when he knocked on the door, then badged himself into your room. He figured his blood pressure was really high consider the sound of blood pumping was loud. He found you laying on your bed.

“Hello, Dr. Winchester,” you said blandly.

That made Sam’s heart slow down. “Good morning, Miss Y/L/N.” He knew this wasn’t going to go well. But he pushed on, for he has no other choice. He had to maintain the doctor-patient relationship he should’ve never disrupted with his feelings. He came around the corner of your bed and bent one knee to get a better look at you. “How are you feeling today?”

“Um, okay. I guess. All things considered,” you answered without looking at him. Sam did his standard pulse take then sat down in a chair away from you.

Your session with him went like it it was supposed to. You talked about how you were feeling physically, how you felt about your crimes, and what you thought the real reasons behind them were. No mention of Dragon, though. You were starting to wonder what happened to him. But that wasn’t something you wanted to dwell on. Him not clouding up your thoughts with his mindless drabbles and rants gave you time, and brain space, to clearly think.

“So given your progress over the last few weeks,” Sam went on, using a monotone voice you’d never heard before, “I can take these notes to the DA’s office and see about lessening some of your restrictions. You don’t seem like the dangerous-”

“Sam,” you interrupted.

Sam looked at you, and what you saw in his eyes hurt. Blank. Emptiness. Apathy. Sadness.

_“I did that.”_

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N?” he replied with the same emotion-lacking tone.

_“Oh Sam.”_

“When are we going to talk about this?”

_“I’m so sorry, Sam.”_

“Talk about what?” Sam maintained an ignorant appearance.

_“Does he hate me now?”_

“About the elephant in the room.”

_“He’s pretending. So he doesn’t show how hurt he is.”_

“There’s nothing to discuss, Y/N. Now if we could stay on topic, please.”

_“What have I done?”_

“We need to discuss this, Sam.”

_“I’m going to make it right, sweetheart.”_

“Please refer to me as Dr. Winchester.”

“No Sam. I won’t do that.”

“Then if you will not afford me that courtesy then perhaps we need to find you a new psychologist.”

“Damnit Sam don’t! STOP!”

Sam was getting up to leave when your last outburst stopped him. He looked up at you. And if you hadn’t been paying attention, you wouldn’t have noticed that his hard expression and mannerism softened.

“I…” you began. “I’ve had time to think about this.”

“Have you?” Sam said, having retaken his seat once more. Was that hope you heard in his voice.

“Yes. And…I can’t exactly see what you see in me. But…I want to give you the opportunity to show me.”

“Y/N, I could lose my job over this. My licenses. All of it.”

“I don’t care.”

“I would never be able to work in this field again.”

“I don’t care!”

“Then what do you care about?!” Sam shouted.

“You.”

Sam was sure his heart had stopped beating in that moment.

“I shouldn’t have ignored my true feelings.”

“No, Y/N. You’re right. This is something big and you needed time to process it.”

“Maybe. But I’m done hiding. I’m done holding out. I’m done denying you my true feelings.”

Sam held his breath. But he didn’t get a chance to hold it long as you practically attacked his lips with your own. You were breathing for him the way you were making out. He wrapped his arms around you as he continued kissing you with such intensity. His hands made their way up your scrub shirt. You were working on undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt all the while fiercely attached at the lips. The two of you only paused to take a breath of room air before you were back at it. You didn’t bother to hold back, which meant bumping into furniture and chairs, which no doubt was making enough noise to attract attention from unwanted parties. By the time you came to your senses, your top was off, your bra was unhooked but still holding your breasts in place, and Sam was naked from the waist up. The two of you shared an intense stare, Sam’s forehead resting against yours, your hand on his chest. You could feel the hard pounding of his heart beneath your palm.

“I think I love you, Sam.”

“And I you, Y/N.”

You kissed each other once more before a thought occurred to Sam, making him stop. You looked at him with a concerning glint in your eyes.

“What’s wrong, Sam?”

“Umm…where does Dragon fit into all of this?”

“I, uh…Dragon has been radio silent for the last few weeks.”

Sam blinked. “Beg your pardon?”

“He hasn’t said anything. Not even a grunt letting me know he’s sleeping, or whatever. It’s like….it’s like he’s…gone.”

The two of you leaned back on the bed, your head on his chest, his fingers lightly combing your hair.

“Is that even possible?” you asked.

“I have no idea, to be honest.” Sam replied. He bent his head down so he could kiss your crown, breathing in your flowery shampoo scent. It made him want to finish undressing you and have his way with you.

“Am….am I cured? Did you cure me, Sam?” you looked up at him with big, hopeful eyes.

“I don’t know,” Sam breathed. “But we need to be on our guard. Not just for Dragon, but for everyone else in this hospital. We’re going to be open targets all around, especially me. You’re here permanently. But I can be discarded like yesterday’s trash if word gets out that I’m dating you.”

“So…” you began, laying your head back down on his chest. You could get lost in the sound of his heartbeat. “Does that mean you’re my boyfriend now?”

“Only if it means I get to claim you as my girlfriend.”

The two of you shared another kiss before soaking in the silence. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This ended up being a lot shorter than I had anticipated but I do hope the quality wasn’t sacrificed in my writings. You be the judge!


	11. Together-Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When rumors start flying about a doctor having an intimate relationship with a patient, Sam and Reader try to figure out what to do to avoid being discovered. When the Reader’s solutions are rejected by Sam, things take an….interesting turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SMUUUUUTTT, FLANST, PANIC ATTACKS
> 
> This chapter contains some serious smut in it. Just so y'all know. Also I suck at writing smut. Hope it isn't too bad.

Sam tried to ignore it. Tried to put it out of his mind and focus on work and, with his work, his newfound love with Y/N.  
But like they say in Grey’s Anatomy (which to Sam’s annoyance, his mother is obsessed with), _‘in a hospital, the only thing that spreads faster than disease, is gossip.’_

It started out as whispers at first. Only happening when Sam was leaving the area. But as the weeks went on and his and yours’ relationship became more pronounced, even though the two of you were keeping it inside the walls of your room, his colleagues starting talking a bit louder, not really caring whether or not Sam was in the room with them. Of course they never outright said “Winchester and Y/L/N are getting it on in her room!” And he also didn’t know if anyone else in the asylum was doing what the two of you were, so they could’ve been talking about anyone.

_“crazy things keep happening here!” one of his colleagues said to another in the staff only room one afternoon as he was making himself some tea._

_“I know, it’s more insane than some of my patients!”_

_“right under our noses. A doctor and their patient sexing it up during therapy sessions.”_

_“well that’s one way to relieve psychological distress”_

_“if they’re ever discovered, they’ll find themselves out of here and without a license faster than you can spell ‘psychologist.’”_

_“I wonder who it could be?”_

_“I have my suspicions, but I think I’ll keep it to myself”_

_“Aww c’mon! Spill the beans! Don’t leave me hanging!”_

_“No no, I can’t spoil it. I won’t! But I have feeling it’ll come out sooner rather than later.”_

With that last conversation he overheard, he figured they must’ve been talking about another couple. You and Sam hadn’t had sex yet. The two of you wanted to warm up being together first. Take things slow. And Sam could appreciate that. You’d never had an intimate relationship before and he was more than happy to make sure you were comfortable with it all. Considering it was huge risk not just for him and his career, but for her as well. There’s no telling what the courts and the asylum could do with that information. He feared retaliation against you.

_“who knows how long it’s been going on?” another tidbit of conversation Sam overheard in the living room of the floor you were staying on. Only this time it was coming from the patients rather than his colleagues. This alarmed Sam immensely. Most of the people committed here didn’t stay lucid long enough to remember why there were at Mandrel to begin with._

_“I dunno Markie, y’know whadda mean?”_

_“Damn kids and the dumb things they’ll do for love.”_

_“I think it’s kinda sweet,” said another patient within the vicinity._

_“shaddup Gert, go back to eating your crayons.”_

_“Okay!” the one called Gert went back to munching on a Purple Mountain’s Majesty crayon from her box. Sam thought he was going to be physically sick seeing her take a big bite out of the tip, chewing it until her teeth were the same color._

_“Dear Lord Jesus and Father in Heaven, please protect us from these lovebirds before they make us look normal! Amen!” called out another one from across the room._

_“That’s enough, Harold!” Tiffany called out from her seat behind the nurses’ station desk._

By the end of the day, Sam was itching to get home and relax. But not before he stopped by your room to make sure you were okay. He knocked like he always did. He could’ve just walked right in but it was policy to always knock, even if the patient tells you there’s no need. And not knocking would’ve raised even more suspicions. As if that bar couldn’t be raised any higher.  He entered and quietly closed the door behind him. He was fortunate there were no cameras in any of the rooms. Though with some of the patients it might be a good idea to keep an eye on the from afar for safety’s sake, a lot of them had paranoia issues and cameras would only agitate their mental state. If they were there, however, Sam would’ve already been out of the job. Possibly permanently.

“Hey,” you said as Sam came over to kiss you. “How goes it?”

“I’m heading home for the day,” Sam replied, sitting on the edge of your bed. He reached out to help you sit up and held your hand.

“I wish I could go with you,” you said, a bit of gloom in your voice. “You make me feel so…normal.”

Sam chuckled lightly. “Heh, I wish you could too. Listen, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.

“What’s on your mind, babe?” you said, making sure you gave him your undivided attention.

“I know that since you’re not allowed to leave the room you haven’t heard. But…the rumors are starting to fly around.”

“Rumors? About what?”

“About us.”

A shocked look quickly made its way across your face. Sam might’ve suspected this would induce panic in you, and he was ready to remedy that.

“They haven’t said anything specific,” Sam went on, urging calm and collectiveness in his voice, but it didn’t help. You started to feel a panic attack coming on.

“They can’t! They can’t they can’t they can’t…they cant take you away from me! You SAVED ME!” you were shrieking at this point. Sam knew there was nothing he could say that would make this alright. You went into fight or flight mode. He gripped you in his arms.

“Just breathe, baby, it’s okay,” Sam coached as you continued to hyperventilate. “Breathe for me! Deep breath. In,” he inhaled deeply, “and out,” then released it.

It wasn’t working. You were too far into your panic attack to really hear him. You barely realized it when he took your hand and placed it flat and firm on the center of his chest.

“Breathe with me, love,” Sam said softly. “Look me in the eyes.”

You complied. And that was it. You were lost in the spectrum of hazel, blue-green tones of his irises. He had _the_ most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen in your life. Then you felt something against your hand. A slight rhythmic thumping, only to be paired with your hand moving up and down slowly.

Your breathing started to match Sam’s and even out. Eventually, when you were calm, he sat you down on your bed, never leaving your side.

“Okay, now let’s think this through,” Sam began after a beat of silence. “The worst that can happen is I lose my job, right? But then who would take over your care? You wouldn’t be allowed to transfer facilities. One, because we would need a court order, and two, Mandrel is the only high security asylum in Lawrence. Hell, this side of the Missouri-Kansas border. That seems the worst that could happen to you-”

“Let’s leave.”

Sam stopped talking. “What?”

“Break me out of this place, and let’s run away! You know the outside of this place better than I do. C’mon now’s our chance!”

“Y/N,” Sam began, nervously. “Okay. A, I’ll repeat myself. This is a high security facility. There’s no way we’ll get out unnoticed. B, the guards here are still on orders to kill you if you become a threat. If we escape and you refuse to stand down, you will be shot! I cannot- no, I _will_ not let that happen. Ever. And C, if I take off with you, I can not only be charged with federal felonies for helping a convicted murder escape, but guaranteed, I will lose my ability to practice. Which mean I won’t be able to help you anymore. That is the goal here. To prevent that from happening.”

“But Sam, I can’t lose you! And if we stay here, I most definitely will!” you exclaimed, the threat of another panic attack looming dangerously close.

“You’re not hearing me, Y/N,” Sam sighed, frustrated.

“Yes I am!”

“No you’re not!” Sam raised his voice slightly, which sounded like a low pitched growl. That stirred something in you.

Before you knew it, the two of you were making out like your lives would end without licking each other’s saliva out of your mouths. Sam was practically ripping the scrub set off of you while you were frantically shredding the dress shirt he was wearing, not caring in the slightest that you needed to unbutton it before taking it off. Within a matter of seconds, the two of you were completely naked and well on your way to fucking each other to kingdom come. Sam didn’t even bother with a condom as he sunk his hardened thick member straight into your entrance.

“Damn baby, you’re so fucking tight,” Sam panted.

“Only for you baby,” you purred, never breaking eye contact. He maintained the same lustful stare as he stretched you out. “Don’t hold back, Doctor. I can take it. _All_ of it.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” Sam continued pushing his cock into you, groaning and moaning the sexiest moan a man could make. “God, Y/N, it’s like you were made just for me.”

“Because I was,” and with that, he thrusted into you, peppering your breasts with firm kisses. _Damn he is rough in bed_ , you thought. He didn’t even try to go slowly. He just rammed into you like a battering ram against a building.

“Ugh, you feel so good inside me, Sam,” you breathed.

“I bet I can do even better,” Sam replied, breathless.

Before you could even ask what he meant, you felt your walls start to spasm as your orgasm was building. When it, and the two of you, finally came, it was blindingly outstanding ecstasy. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you screamed his name as loudly as you could.

When he was done spilling hot seed into you, he pulled out and cleaned himself up as best he could. Then he plopped onto your chest, heaving in and out along with you. You weren’t planning on cleaning yourself up anytime soon. You wanted to soak up the moment, being stark naked with your boyfriend, no, your _lover_. Laying with him on your chest, listening to your pounding heartbeat slow down as you came off your sex high, felt like it made this whole predicament worth it.

“Well,” Sam said after about 10 minutes of silence, “I’m glad I stopped by before going home.”

* * *

When Sam walked in through the front door, it was late. He’d stopped by a local Italian restaurant for dinner. He wanted to take all the time he needed to make sure you and your incredible sex drive were out of his head. It was the last thing he wanted to discuss. His parents were already retired to bed for the night, and Dean apparently wasn’t there. Which meant was working another overnight in the ER or he was at his apartment. That just left Sam to himself.

He started by taking a long hot shower. He needed to get your scent off of him, wishing all the while that he didn’t have to. You smelled amazing, and even better after sex. He toweled himself off, threw on his boxers and a clean pair of sweatpants, and brushed his teeth. Spitting out the last of the toothpaste, he turned out the light in the bathroom, went into his room and closed the door. He realized he didn’t make his bed this morning so he just crawled in the same way he got out of it.

He was on cloud 9.  He couldn’t be any happier. He had a great girl, all things said about her be damned. And he wasn’t ever going to let her go. Even if it killed him.

* * *

_“Preparations are almost complete. Only ingredient left is…time. Can’t wait to no longer be tied to Y/N’s fucked up head. Things are looking up.”_

You could’ve swore you heard cackling in the hallway. But when you felt you were imagining things, you went back to sleep.


	12. Make Your Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is brought before his employers and given a choice, the reader or his job. When he doesn’t show up following the meeting for your usual therapy session, you blame yourself, knowing he’s in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, ANGST, GUILT.
> 
> Sam's POV is in bold italics.

**_I knew as soon as I was called into the Professor’s office on my day off that it wasn’t going to be good. Nigel was always the type of boss that respected his subordinates’ personal time. Most of my colleagues had families and other obligations, whereas he knew time with my parents and brother were valuable to me. He didn’t ever call anyone in on a day off for work either since he hired a freaking wizard to do scheduling. So my pessimistic side kicked in when I got that phone call._ **

**_What I didn’t expect was to see two other guys in his office when I got there. And they looked like they outranked Nigel in the psychiatry department. If I’d known he would’ve been bringing higher ups I would’ve dressed in more than just a T-shirt, pair of jeans, and my sandals. Not very good on first impressions, I suppose._ **

**_“Sam!” Nigel said as I walked through his door. “Good of you to come. I apologize for calling you in on your day off.”_ **

**_“No, it’s alright. I was just being lazy today so you didn’t interrupt anything,” I said as I shook his hand, taking my usual seat right behind his desk. I looked to Nigel’s right and left at the two stern looking men. Both were wearing tailor made suits and I’m pretty sure they were judging me in my off time clothes._ Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to be called in for anything, fuck me for not being a mind reader, right?! _I thought bitterly. I knew it wasn’t fair to have that mindset, but I couldn’t help it._**

**_Like I said, I knew what this was about. And it was not only time to face the music, but I knew this wasn’t going to be pretty._ **

* * *

_“All this time I thought you were gone,” you said. Dragon had returned. You knew his supposed lack of presence had been too good to be true._

_“Darling, I’m always going to be here. Whether I talk or not.”_

_“Well considering you had me convinced that you didn’t know how to shut up, how was I supposed to know?”_

_“Stop thinking such foolish thoughts. I am capable of restraint. I just choose not to exercise it. Much more fun that way!” well he sounded cheerful._

_“I…I thought I was cured. I thought that Sam cured me.”_

_“And that’s what makes you the fucking idiot and me the genius. I told you. You cannot escape me.”_

You pondered on that thought. What the fuck was Dragon planning?

* * *

**_I could feel my heart pounding against my rib cage to the point where I was convinced it was visible. Sweat was beading its away around my hairline underneath my bangs. My hands were shaking slightly too. I couldn’t blame the essence of the asylum on this though. I was nervous as all hell._ **

**_I barely heard anything that was being spoken to me, or about me._ **

**_“…this kind of behavior is one that is not tolerate here at Mandrel. Dr. Winchester? Dr. Winchester!”_ **

**_“Huh, what? Oh, sorry,” I stammered out._ **

**_“Son, it’s very important that you pay attention. This is your future we’re discussing,” said one of the higher ups seriously, whose name I couldn’t remember._ **

**_“My…my future?” Again I stammered out. Yup, sucking at the impressions here._ **

**_“By future, we mean your stance here at this institute. And as a doctor in general.”_ **

**_That had my attention. My heart was now starting to break free from my chest at this point. Fuck._ **

**_“Sam,” Nigel began, “what you’ve been doing with Miss Y/L/N has been speculated for some time. But one of your colleagues heard some…unsavory noises coming from her room the last session you had with her. Or should I say, supposed to have been having with her. This is very serious indeed. Patient doctor relationship are strictly forbidden here at Mandrel as with any facility in this country.”_ **

**_“Dr. Withman and the rest of the Mandrel board have been discussing what to do about this before you arrived here this afternoon,” said the other higher up, whose name I’ve also forgotten. Go figure. “We believe that it’s fair to not only let you tell your side of the story, but to give you the option to remedy the situation.”_ **

**_I took a deep breath. There was no point in lying about it. Lying would not only get me in more trouble on top of this, but it could put Y/N at great risk. It’s now or ever I suppose._ **

**_“My actions are not excusable, Nigel,” I began, pretty much ignoring the other two dudes in the room. I didn’t know them, therefore I didn’t trust them. “I….I didn’t ever want it to come to this. I never anticipated anything like this to happen. But….I believe I have fallen in love with Y/N. I know better, and I will take full responsibility for my actions. I never thought it would happen. But it did, and here we are. I love her. And I want what’s best for her. Not just as her doctor, but as her…boyfriend….” I could see the look of disgust forming on the Professor’s colleagues eyes. Fucking hell. I knew nobody would approve of this, but the look of complete disdain and judgement on their faces made me feel worse than I actually did. “That being said,” I went on, “I don’t regret it. Any of it. Not for falling in love with her, not for having sex with her, none of it.”_ **

**_Nigel pondered my words for a moment before speaking. I could tell he was trying to weigh his opinions carefully. That’s one of the many things I really admired about Nigel. He had so much compassion and empathy for not just the patients here, but for his colleagues. Especially the ones he’d developed a good relationship with._ **

**_“I understand.”_ **

**_I stopped breathing for a moment. “C-Come again?”_ **

**_“The human heart is a very complex organ,” he said, in his usual light tone when he got into a philosophical conversation, “in both a physical and not so physical sense. Four chambers that requires blood and self-generated electricity to create the beat we hear and feel. It’s so strong and yet so very delicate. The emotions and feelings we generate as humans comes from that very organ. Love is not a linear path. We tend to let our hearts guide us to the ones we feel we need in our lives. In short, the heart wants what the heart wants.” His colleagues sat there with their jaws slack. I just continued to listen._ **

**_“However,” he continued, replacing his tone with a more concerned one, “unfortunately this kind of love isn’t something that can be allowed here. I believe I speak for my colleagues when I say that it sounds like you have a choice to make. You cannot be Miss Y/L/N’s doctor and her boyfriend. I’d advise you to take some time to decipher which is more important. You have 3 days to come up with a decision. Since you already have the next 3 days off, that lines up nicely. I recommend that you do not come in for a ‘personal’ visit until that decision has been made. Are we clear, Sam?”_ **

**_All I could do was nod my head. I shook his hand and I left his office._ **

**_I ended up going home and locking myself in my room for the remainder of those three days. I barely acknowledged my parents when I came in, made up some excuse that I wasn’t feeling well and needed to rest. Mom and Dad didn’t question it, though the looks on their faces told me they wanted to. And I didn’t come out of my room except to eat and take care of basic hygiene needs._ **

**_I had no idea what I was going to do. I wanted to be with Y/N; I loved her so much. But I also needed to keep this job. I worked too damn hard at Stanford to just throw it all away. But as Nigel said, the heart wants what the heart wants. And my heart wanted nothing more than to have Y/N by my side right here in my bed. I wanted us to lay under the sheets together in nothing but underwear, me listening to her soft steady breathing as she listened to my heartbeat, with nothing but the breeze outside to keep us company. Again, as usual, the Professor was right. I had to make a choice. Being a doctor, or being with Y/N._ **

**_And by the time Monday rolled around, I still wasn’t sure of the answer._ **

**_I’m completely and utterly fucked._ **

**_And by extension, so was Y/N._ **

* * *

You were sound asleep in your room Monday morning when there was a knock at your door. You didn’t recognize it as Sam’s usual knock, and it immediately tore you from unconsciousness.

When you didn’t answer, you waited for the magnetic key to be accessed with a badge. Whoever walked in the room, it didn’t sound like the kind of dress shoes Sam wore. In fact, they sounded like heels. _A woman’s here to see me?_ Was it a nurse? No, nurses normally wore tennis shoes or those goddamn Crocs that you believed needed to be banished from all earthly existence. It had to be another doctor. Your heart was racing. Where the hell was Sam?

“Miss Y/L/N?” the woman called out.

“Mmhm?” you mumbled.

“Hi,” she said with a little too much cheerfulness for a Monday morning. She had bright red hair that was very curly, one side of it pinned back with a massive hair-clip. She had light makeup that complimented her pale complexion. You suspected she was native to Ireland given the slight lilt in her voice, which would explain her appearance. She wore a dark brown pantsuit, and a lilac blouse underneath. The shoes you’d heard earlier were indeed heels of a cream color. The outfit flowed quite nicely, and you suddenly wondered where you’d gotten the perception of a fashionista. “I’m Dr. Erin Barton. How are you feeling this morn?”

“Where’s Sam?” It was all you could say. You didn’t care how impressive this doctor was, she wasn’t _your_ doctor.

“He’s not in today, so I’m filling in as his temporary replacement.” She reached out to feel your radial pulse. Her hands were very cold, unlike Sam’s warm inviting calloused fingers.

“Replacement?!” you exclaimed. _He’s been replaced? Oh fuck no, that’s can’t be…this can’t be happening!_ You thought with dread pooling in your gut.

“It’s just a temporary replacement. He won’t be out long.” Dr. Barton went on, seeing the panic starting to show on your face. But it did nothing to quell your internal terror.

She went on about her usual business of being a doctor. You answered every one of her questions with a yes or no, and barely gave decent answers to open ended questions. She wasn’t worth your time as far as you were concerned. All the while, your thoughts went on with their usual two sided conversations.

_“I drove him out, Dragon.”_

_“What makes you say that?” he said dryly._

_“Sam’s been replaced. I can’t believe this. What if…what if I caused this?”_

_“Then you have nobody to blame but yourself.”_

_“Rude.”_

_“Hey you’re the idiot who fell for her doctor, knowing damn fucking well that sort of thing is frowned upon! Of all the things you’ve done, this has to be the dumbest. When will you ever learn?”_

_“True but Sam also knew therefore it can’t all be my fault, can it?”_

_“Maybe. But you could’ve walked away, and you didn’t. Therefore, bam! All your fault.”_

_“Fuck. I got him in trouble. This has to end.”_

_“You’re right, Y/N/N,” Dragon said, almost sounding eager. “This does have to end.”_


	13. Out Of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sam doesn’t make his move in time, his employers make it for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST
> 
> A/N: This chapter is a lot shorter than I originally planned. Mostly Sam centric. That’s what I get for not following my series itinerary. Oops.

Sam didn’t know what to expect when he went into work a week after his initial meeting with Nigel and his colleagues. He also hadn’t made up his mind on his choices. But like he had told the Professor that day, he was prepared to deal with the consequences of his actions.

And he knew that no matter what he decided, you would pay the price a lot more than he ever would.

After his usual vital signs check with Susan he made his way up towards your room. But before he could swipe his card to get in, he heard other voices alongside yours. One of them sounded like an Irish accent. The other was a man, but it didn’t sound like Nigel. And then he heard you, and his heart froze solid. You were crying. Hysterically. _Damnit,_ Sam thought. _That’s really bad._

He went to swipe his card. But it was rejected.

“What the hell?”

He swiped it again and again, but he kept getting a little red light that indicates denial of access. _Fuck! They removed my accessibility._ As he was leaving to go to Nigel’s office, someone emerged from your room. Sam hid around the corner.

“We’re very sorry about this, Miss Y/L/N. I know Sam was a good doctor but his interactions with you have ultimately led to his termination. Dr. Barton is a very excellent doctor who will take good care of you.” _  
_

_Termination?_ Sam thought with dread.

“BUT SHE’S NOT SAM! I WANT MY SAM BACK! YOU CAN’T KEEP HIM FROM ME!!!” Sam heard you shout. He knew that voice all too well. You only shouted when you were anxious and scared at the same time. Your fear was palpable in the air. And he was scared right along with you.

“Again, we’re very sorry for the circumstances. Please try and cooperate with Dr. Barton.” And the man turned to leave, while you screamed incoherent curses at him. The door closed and latched behind him, and Sam managed to avoid being seen by him as he darted towards Nigel’s office.

Sam knocked on the door. “It’s open!” Nigel’s now familiar voice sounded from inside.Sam walked in timidly. Nigel looked up at him but he couldn’t determine the demeanor behind his boss’s expression. Was it anger? Frustration? Disappointment? He wouldn’t be surprised if it was all of the above, nor would he blame him. Sam knew how much trouble he was in.

“Dr. Winchester!” Nigel said with a smile, one that Sam knew was being forced. He felt bad for the old man. Nigel was trying his hardest not to appear angry with him. But Sam knew that he was furious. He could tell because he called him Dr. Winchester instead of by his first name. He _never_ did that. Sam shook Nigel’s hand and took his usual seat on the old leather chair. He was going to miss sitting there.

“Good morning, Dr. Withman,” Sam replied back without emotion.

“Dr. Winchester, it is unfortunate that the circumstances have played out like this. I need to know what you’ve decided.”

Sam took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. “Logic would normally prevent me from choosing wrong. But I can’t go by with logic this time. My love for Y/N is too great. I wish I could have it both ways, but I know I can’t. Y/N has taught me so much and in turn, she’s shown me what loving a person really means. That’s a debt I can never repay, even if I were to cure her from her mental illness. And if that means losing my job, then that’s what it takes.”

Nigel was about to shake his head, but he stopped himself. It didn’t keep him from showing a sign of disappointment on his face. He handed Sam some papers and a pen.

“If you would please read through this and sign the last page. This is a letter of involuntary termination.”

Sam didn’t say a word as he quickly skimmed through it and then signed at the bottom. He was officially unemployed now. He knew his family would be disappointed. But he didn’t care. His main focus now was ensuring you would be okay. Whatever it took. Even if it meant breaking you out. Maybe your suggestion of running away together wasn’t such a bad idea. He had the training to help you through your issues and you weren’t so dangerous that you needed to be locked away for the rest of your life.

“You’re now free to go to the staff only room and retrieve your belongings,” Nigel went on. Sam barely registered him.

“Also, just so you know,” Nigel said with an air of caution. “An incident like this has to be reported. You should be hearing from the Kansas State Board of Psychiatry within a few days.”

“You’re….” Sam said, slightly shocked, “you’re reporting me?”

“Unfortunately yes,” Nigel replied with regret. “You’re a fantastic doctor, especially for one so young, and I am proud that we hired you in the first place. Y/N really flourished under your care. If it were up to me, I would let you have it both ways in a heartbeat.” Sam looked up at him in astonishment. Nigel just smiled sadly, and went on. “But I regret that there are laws that come with this job and my particular position and I cannot ignore them.”

“I understand,” Sam said glumly. He handed Nigel his badge.

“I wish I could pine for you in your case, but my position requires me to be neutral. I wish you the best of luck, Sam.” And with that, Sam stood up and made his way out of Nigel’s office. He collected his things in the staff room, which was filled with the stares and whispers of his now former colleagues.

He prayed as he was leaving the building for what he presumed to be the last time that you would manage without him. But he wasn’t going to give up on you.


	14. Bits and Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon’s decided it’s time to execute his plans. Meanwhile, Sam’s fate is brought before the medical board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, DEMONIC POSSESSION, VERBAL ABUSE, DEATH THREATS, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE  
> [be safe, dear readers!]
> 
> I ended up doing a lot of research for this chapter. I’m really quite proud of myself. This chapter is the beginning of the darkest heart of this series. I’ve listed all of the triggers that I feel are worth noting, but there will be a LOT of ones that aren’t listed. What can I say, writing dark angsty shit is my forte. And I’m proud of that.
> 
> I had originally planned for there to be more in depth interaction between the board and Sam but given how much I had already written, I went a different route. Hope it doesn’t disappoint!

You could feel it coming on. You’d felt this feeling so many times, you thought you’d be used to it by now. But in reality it never got easier.

First you’d suddenly feel cold. Then really hot. Like going from being hypothermic to being extremely febrile within a matter of milliseconds. Then your heart rate would shoot through the roof. It would pound so hard and so fast you could feel it skipping beats. And it rang in your ears loudly with each forceful push of blood to the point where you wish you were deaf. Then, after all that, everything would just be…black. You would be somehow stuck in your subconscious, some sense of control over your thoughts, but you had no control over your body, your words, or your actions…in what feels like several minutes actually just takes a couple of seconds.

You knew Dragon was never an entity to trust. But he’d become such a big part of your life that you somehow felt like you could, even if he was mean about it. But now…now it seemed he was something you didn’t think reality allowed to exist.

Dragon was a demon.

And it scared the holy fucking hell out of you.

_“Where is Sam? I’m scared Dragon.”_

_“You should be scared.”_

_His voice was different. Like he was purposely trying to scare you. “what? Why?”_

_“I told you Y/N. You’re too fucking stupid to realize the obvious around you. I was never your friend. I was never here to help you. I AM YOUR PERSONALITY DISORDER. I AM YOUR MENTAL ILLNESS! I am the reason you’re in this godforsaken dungeon. I am the one who took control of you the night your grocery store job went up in flames. I am the one who took control of you the night you murdered your family. You’re nothing but a weak, pathetic, sad, stupid human and it’s time you gave up your space on this planet for someone else more worthy of its oxygen. I will make you suffer. I will make your dear Dr. Winchester suffer. Everyone left on this miserable dirt pile you call Earth you ever loved or cared for WILL suffer. All because you exist. All because they know you. You were put on this Earth for one reason. To drive everyone around you to die. How’s that for friendship, bitch?”_

Before you could even begin to feel scared or worried, before you could even cry out for help, before you could even think about Sam, that feeling took over. And everything went black.

And it wouldn’t be known how long you’d be out until it was too late.

* * *

Sam sat at home in a miserable stupor after being fired from Mandrel. He mostly just sat in the living room watching boring daytime TV soaps in his day off clothes with a beer in his hand.

He didn’t bother to try and find another job because he knew if he mentioned he was being investigated by the State of Kansas, he’d be laughed out of an interview faster than he could say the word ‘stethoscope.’ And he couldn’t bring himself to find a job in a non-medical industry either, even though every other commercial he saw on TV was about the local grocery chain Lawrence Family Foods having a huge hiring event. They weren’t the only ones. All 5 Gas-N-Sips in Lawrence needed night shift managers, they were building a new Walmart just outside the city limits and surely there were hundreds of jobs to fill there, and since he always grabbed a cup of coffee from the town’s only Starbucks before heading to the asylum, he’d seen the sign that read in bold flashy lettering “BECOME A BARISTA TODAY!” The job market in Kansas was starting to boom again and there were plenty of jobs to be had. With those, he didn’t necessarily have to say he was being investigated, but he didn’t have the heart to lie about such a thing. It was a pretty big deal and he’d be in even more trouble if his lie was discovered.

What made his depression deepen even further was the fact that there was no way for Sam to get in contact with you. You weren’t allowed to make phone calls anymore, especially to him. You were also having to be monitored by a female staff member anytime there was a male staff member in the room with you. It was almost like they were afraid you would fall in love with the wrong person again. It was stupid to Sam because he knew better. In the months that he’d spent getting to know you, he learned that when you gave your heart to someone, you gave it all 100% and you didn’t get it back until death. But the rest of the staff members at Mandrel didn’t know you like Sam did.

When he wasn’t constantly reminded of his utter failures, Sam was worried sick about you. He knew for a fact that him not being there for you meant you would regress. You had only made progress because Sam was your doctor. You came out of your shell. You opened up and for the first time ever, you felt like you could finally be your true self. The witty, quirky girly girl who liked to make up fiction stories off the top of her head and tell them like you were reading a novel, using unique voices to differentiate between characters. You liked to brag about your little brothers’ accomplishments and exclaim how proud you were of your dad for his military service, and how your mom always managed to keep up with working full time and being a military wife and parent to three children. You talked about them like they were still alive. And it was a beautiful thing for Sam to witness. He was honored that he was the one you shared your most intimate and private thoughts with.

But that was all in the past. Sam was certain that you was forever gone.

Two weeks after his termination, Sam went to check the mail for Mary and got a letter from the dreaded board who was investigating him. He gave the rest of the mail to his mother and made his way upstairs to his room to read it.

* * *

**_SUBJECT: VIOLATIONS HEARING_ **

_Dear Dr. Samuel William Winchester, MD._

_The members of the Kansas Behavioral Sciences Regulatory Board have received a formal written complaint from the Chief of Staff Dr. Nigel Montel Withman at the Mandrel Institute of Behavioral Health and Wellness following an incident involving a patient._

_You are hereby summoned to a preliminary hearing on the 23 rd day of August, 2006 at 9:00 am at the Eisenhower State Office Building 700 S.W. Harrison St, Ste 420, Room 12B, Topeka, KS 66603-3817.  Please arrive 15 minutes prior to your scheduled hearing. Attendance is mandatory and your absence may result in criminal and/or civil charges against you. Please bring this letter to your hearing, as well as a government issued photo ID. Dress code is business professional. If you would like to submit written statements for your defense, please prepare them in writing prior to your hearing._

_If you have any questions, please use the contact information below._

_Sincerely,_

_Matilda Alderson_  
Special Investigator  
Complaints Department  
785-555-2946, ext. 38448

* * *

Sam knew the 23rd of August was another week away. His heart was racing as he folded the letter and stuck it in his desk drawer.  He flopped onto his bed prone, and sighed. _This is really happening,_ he thought. _What the hell am I going to do with my life if I lost my license?_

* * *

“I’m telling you, sir, the lights just started going off and on all by themselves and it’s been like that for the last week!” Nigel was frustrated as he explained the situation to the 4th electrician that had come through Mandrel. “We have no idea what’s causing it. But there’s obviously a problem!”

“Well, doctor, I’ve been through this system inside and out, and according to these reports so have other electricians before me,” the young man said in an equally frustrated voice. “And I can confirm that there is nothing electrically wrong here. Everything that powers this building is in safe working order and it’s all up to code. I don’t know what else to tell you. Are you sure it has nothing to do with the…you know… _atmosphere_?”

Nigel just glared at him. The young man regretted even asking. Nigel sighed. “How much will it be this time?”

* * *

_“let me go Dragon! DRAGON!!”_

_He won’t listen to me anymore. And he’s taken complete control over my body. And unlike the last times he’s done it, I don’t see him ever letting go. Part of me is scared shitless, but the other part of me just wants all of this to end by any means necessary, even if that means ending my own life. God I hope he can’t hear me right now._

_I wish Sam was here. He would know what to do. But it is now entirely impossible to reach out to him. He’s gone for good this time._

_I just hope Dragon leaves him alone. Whatever fate I have coming for me, Sam hopefully is safe and sound._

_I miss him so much…_

* * *

“Oh NOW WHAT?!” Nigel yelled from his office. He was so loud in his anger that Susan heard him from taking another doctor’s blood pressure. The new doctor that was replacing Sam gave Susan a suspicious look, but she just smiled at him and continued what she was doing like nothing even happened. Even though deep down it scared her. Nobody had ever seen the Professor so angry.

After nothing but power outages and the fire alarms going off like crazy, suddenly the breezy air conditioning system that kept his office ice cold switched off. And since he liked to keep the blinds in his office open and up so that the natural light of day could shine through, he felt the heat instantly. Though winters were brutal in Kansas, summers could get quite uncomfortable. And his old bones just weren’t up to dealing with hot temperatures like they used to in his youth. _Maybe that young buck electrician was right,_ Nigel thought _, maybe there is something else going on that isn’t physical._ He shuddered at the thought.

* * *

Sam walked out of his preliminary hearing wanting nothing more than a nap. It was humiliating and embarrassing as every other board member in there made him look and feel like a common criminal. But because there was no physical proof of his sexual relationship with you to downright prove it was sexual misconduct, only word of mouth, further investigation was needed to make a final determination. So as of right now, he was still a licensed physician. Which didn’t make him feel any better. It wasn’t like he could do anything with his titles. He did managed to type up a statement, basically giving his side of the story. Though he was certain it wouldn’t help his case as he basically told them the same thing he told Nigel. That he loved you and he had no regrets of falling for you. _Yup, time to burn all my diplomas._

Apparently, even though his relationship with you was 100% consensual through your moments of lucidity, it still wasn’t a valid reason to let Sam off the hook with something like medical probation. The American Medical Association Council on Ethical and Judicial Affairs still frowned heavily upon patient-physician relationships that went beyond professional, especially when dealing with anyone who fell under the psychiatric licensing label.

When he got home, his parents were eagerly awaiting the outcome of his hearing. They were waiting for him in the living room and gave him a hug when he walked through the door, but he wasn’t in any position to discuss this. Not right now, anyways. His parents didn’t argue when he said he needed to rest. He slowly made his way up the stairs to his room and ran into Dean.

“Heya Sammy.” Dean said.

“Hi Dean.” Sam replied tiredly.

“How did it go?”

“They need to investigate further.”

“That’s it?”

“Well everything was just word of mouth with no hard evidence. So the case is still pending.”

“How do you feel about all this?”

“Honestly,” Sam yawned, “I’m exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a week after all this bullshit.” He started to loosen his tie and take off his jacket.

“Have uh,” Dean said, almost afraid to ask, “have you spoken with Y/N at all since you got the axe?”

Sam’s heart skipped a beat. Your name always made him weak in the knees. But now it just made him depressed even more. “No. I’m not allowed on the premises. And she forbidden to have access to a phone.”

“You’re worried about her, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. Dean could tell when his baby brother was worried about his loved ones. Sam was never very good at hiding his emotions and feelings.

“You have no idea dude. She was doing so well before all this…happened. I know she’s regressing.” Sam knew he was breaking HIPAA laws by talking about her case with Dean, but at this point he didn’t care. Dean wasn’t about to squeal to anyone outside the house and Sam trusted him with this knowledge. Talking to Dean was safe. It’s the only reason why he didn’t tell Dean off when he inquired.

“I know it’s hard but right now, you need to focus on yourself. I mean this is your future at stake, man. But I think I’ve talked enough. You look like you might fall over if I blew a breath in your face” Dean chuckled, and that got Sam to crack a small smile. He hadn’t smiled in so long it almost hurt his face. Dean patted him on the shoulder before leaving Sam standing in the hall. Before Dean went into his room he turned back to look at his brother. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks Dean,” Sam nodded at him before walking into his room, closing the door behind him.


	15. Family Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While John, Mary, and Dean are disappointed in Sam and his choices, they believe it’s better to be supportive. Dragon makes the first of many daring moves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: FLUFF, ANGST, TERROR, DEMONIC POSSESSION.
> 
> A/N: This was intended to be a short chapter. Oops. I guess 1000 words is short for me lmao. Gonna work on the next chapter after posting this.

Sam finally decided to sit his family down and discuss in detail what had happened. He supposed it was inevitable considering his parents kept asking him ‘no work today? Again?’ He hated that he put it off as long as he did, but better late than never.

After Sam had explained everything, from his feelings for you, to the outcome of the first hearing, he waited for someone to say something.

“Why did you wait so long to tell us, son?” John asked.

“I thought I was keeping in tow the house rules. You know, leave work at the front door?” Sam replied, not making eye contact with his father.

“Honey this is different,” Mary chimed in. “Losing your job, in any circumstance, is something that needs to be brought to our attention. But I understand why you hesitated and I appreciate you respecting the rules.”

“Thanks,” was all Sam could muster. “As humiliating at all this is, I don’t regret it. I just wish there was a way I could still help Y/N. She’s not evil.”

“I hear ya there, Sam,” Dean said. “But right now you can’t. Like I said before, you gotta take care of yourself first.”

“I know.” Sam took a breath. “Look, I know this puts a strain on you guys and I don’t want to be more of a burden than I’ve already-”

“Don’t” John cut him off.

“Sir?”

“Sam you’re not a burden to us. You never have been. Your mother and I are proud of you. Even if you mess up sometimes.”

Sam managed to look up at his parents, who were all smiles. He didn’t expect this.

“Well,” Mary began, “I think I can speak for everyone in the room when I say that we are a family. The Winchesters always stick up for one another. Though we’re not too thrilled about your choices, we’re here for you. We’re not going to toss you to the curb because you can’t pay your way through life. Don’t expect anything too extravagant, but whatever you need, just ask. We love you.”

Mary got up from her seat and hugged Sam from where he sat. He hugged her back, breathing in the scent of her Dior perfume. He stood up and gave his dad a hug. He still smelled like the inside of his squad car. Dean came up to Sam and patted him on the back of the shoulder.

Sam went to bed that night thankful for his family and the support they were offering him. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he didn’t have them. _I guess I’m just gonna have to take it one day at a time,_ he pondered.

* * *

Dragon was bored. He finally managed to shut you up for the time being so you weren’t constantly nagging him inside your own mind. Which was good because he needed to concentrate. It had been a long time since he had used his powers. But that’s what the game took. Playing around, lying in wait before the big show. Now was his moment to shine.

He’d made sure the electricity was completely dysfunctional and the air conditioning was dead to make sure he still had his mojo. It ended up being too easy. He laughed with your voice. “This is going to be so much fun! I can’t wait to see what’s in store!”

He walked over to your bed and laid down flat underneath the covers. He wanted to make sure you looked like you were asleep when he smoked out. He knew nobody was coming to check on you anytime soon so now was the perfect time to find his hiding place. His essence made its way into the ductwork of the ceiling, snaking around to find a place that would hold your entire body and all its weight. Not that it was saying much. You’d become scarily thin and lanky since first being admitted. But it still needed to be done. Dragon didn’t want to make any assumptions at this point. He’d come too far for this to fail now.

Once his scoping out was complete, he made his way back to your body, forcing you to inhale the smoke like essence once more. When your eyes opened, the entire eyeball was pitch black but only for a second before it disappeared revealing your Y/E/C eyes.

Dragon-you got up and cricked your neck, smiling at the satisfying crunches it made. He stretched your limbs out like you were about to go on a healthy morning jog.

“Showtime, baby!”

* * *

He-you held out your hand, and the door unlocked. He-you stepped out of your room for the first time in the history of your stay at Mandrel and started walking the halls. They were surprisingly empty. _Perfect,_ he thought.

It wasn’t until he-you made it to the living room where there were a few other residents there, plus a nurse or two behind the desk. The nurses didn’t notice him-you there until he-you were almost in front of them. The look of sheer terror on their faces made him-you smile.

“MISS Y/L/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? HOW DID YOU GET OUT OF YOUR ROOM? SECURITY!”

“Shh-shh-shh, it’s okay!” he-you said in a sing-song voice. The other residents started noticing him-you in the room and they also had frightened looks on their faces. It only made him-you smile more.

“No it’s not okay, Y/N. You need to go back to your room peacefully and quietly or there’ll be trouble.” The other nurse said as calmly as she could. By now the security guards were showing up, guns with laser aims pointed right between your breasts.

“GET DOWN ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES REAL EASY OR WE’LL BE FORCED TO SHOOT!” the security guard leading the pack bellowed out.

“As you wish, officer.” Dragon-you slowly put your arms out in front of you and started to go down to the ground. When you were on your knees, Dragon made you fling your arms out and several orb looking lights were dancing in front of the guards’ eyes. “It’s your final wish, anyways.” Was all your said before your eyes went black again.

The orbs blinded everyone in the room. It gave you time to make a quick escape. More orbs followed Dragon-you around, several appearing and darting into other parts of the hospital. One by one, they shown what looked like bright light in each section until the entire hospital was whited-out. Dragon-you made it to his designated safe spot in the ceiling.

And waited.


	16. Brimstone Lawrence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Sam is trying to get his life back on track post Mandrel, he and his family are absolutely devastated one morning when they turn the TV on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, FIRE, MASS DEATH, PANIC ATTACK, VOMITING, WISHES OF DEATH

Sam had been taking Dean’s advice and working on himself and his well-being. He started by going to their family doctor and getting a full physical, blood work and all. When everything came back good, he started working out more. He would get up in the wee hours of the morning and go for a jog. He even went as far as to buy one of those chest strap heart monitors coupled with a watch with part of his final paycheck from Mandrel and turned it into a daily cardio workout. He was feeling pretty good.

He also decided to help out around the house whenever he thought it was needed. He helped his Dad clean and organize the garage. Sam never thought he’d ever see the garage clean enough to pull his father’s old beat up truck in it. He helped his mom with the dishes on a constant basis to the point where he did it without even asking.

“You know Sam,” Mary said one afternoon as he was handwashing one of her Dutch ovens. “If you want me to hire you as our maid, all you have to do is ask. It would be crap pay, but it would buy you a movie ticket every now and then.”

Sam laughed. “I just figured if I’m going to live here without any financial responsibility, I might as well earn my keep.”

“Sam you don’t have to-”

“I know I know, I’m family and don’t need to earn anything to stay. But I want to. And hey,” he looked at his mother with his puppy dog smile, “I don’t see you complaining about this.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Mary chuckled.

Mary eventually compromised with Sam because she felt bad. They agreed that whenever he did housework he would get $50 bucks to do with whatever he wanted. Mary sometime forgot that she had a great paying job at Douglas County Regional and could technically afford to hire a maid, but didn’t want her physician son filling the role. But she wasn’t about to let his hard work go to waste without compensation.

Sam didn’t mind Dean’s teasing about him buying him a French maid costume to wear when he cleaned the house. For the first time in a while, he felt useful.

Plus, more than anything, it took his mind off of you.

* * *

A few weeks later, it was about 7 am when he walked in the house from one of his morning runs. He was an idiot and didn’t bring a drink with him, so he made a beeline for the fridge. But not before he saw the commotion in the living room.

His mother was on her floor, rocking back and forth, crying hysterically. His father was at her side trying to console her. His brother was standing behind the couch, a look of utter shock and disbelief on his face. It was apparent Dean was on his way to work because he was in his scrubs. Sam grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge and went to see what was up.

His drink slipped from his hand and dropped to the floor, sending grape flavored liquid all over the carpet. Sam didn’t care as he knew he could clean it up later. The Winchesters were all focused on the TV.

The flat-screen TV mounted above the fireplace was turned up pretty loudly. Sam was sure if he didn’t have headphones on during his run he would’ve heard it down the street. He could see a huge complex completely engulfed in flames. It looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks when he saw the words on the screen.

**“MANDREL INSTITUTE FIRE. POLICE: NO SURVIVORS.”**

Sam came forward to look at the TV more closely. All he saw was chaos.

Emergency services vehicles from every department Lawrence had.

Fire raging from every window.

The coroner workers laying body bags out by the dozens.

Bystanders crying while being interviewed.

More bystanders crying behind the plethora of police tape.

“How could this have happened?” one interviewee said. “I was just there the other day. Nothing was wrong!”

“This is so tragic. Nigel was such an inspiration to the world of mental health. He will be missed,” said another interviewee.

“Susan Mackey was my sister in law. She was a great person and an even better nurse. Our family appreciates all the love and support but we need time to grieve,” an older woman said, walking away from the cameras with what looked like grandchildren.

Sam dropped to his knees. His chest felt tight, breathing becoming very difficult. He felt dizzy and lightheaded.  He looked at his watch and saw that his heart rate read 238. He believed it as he could feel the chest strap moving up and down at a unnaturally quick pace. Panic started to take control of every bodily function he had. But before Dean, who was coming to his side, could come to comfort his little brother, Sam ran to the spare bathroom and threw up what looked like everything he’d eaten in the last 24 hours. He didn’t stop dry heaving until several minutes later. Dean had followed him to the bathroom and was rubbing his back as Sam took deep breaths to recover.

“I knew it,” Sam said between breaths.

“Knew what?” Dean asked. He offered Sam his hand and helped him stand. They slowly made their way back to the living room, but Sam couldn’t stand to see the TV anymore. So they went upstairs to Dean’s bedroom, talking along the way.

“If I was still Y/N’s doctor, she would still be alive.”

“Damnit Sammy,” Dean said, running his hand through his hair. “This wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t! You could not have prevented this!”

“She’s dead because of me,” Sam muttered, barely listening to Dean.

“No she’s not!” Dean bellowed. That snapped Sam out of his trance. He looked at his older brother. _Those puppy dog eyes of his could get him anything in the world he wanted,_ Dean thought, _but it can’t bring his girlfriend back._ It broke Dean’s heart.

“Look man,” Dean went on, realizing that Sam was actually listening, “I know this is hard, and you’ve already got a lot of shit on your plate. But you will get through this.” Dean looked down at Sam’s watch, and noticed his brother’s pulse still hadn’t come down. It read 202. “You gotta calm down, man, your heart’s gonna explode it keeps beating at this rate.”

Sam had forgotten all about that. He looked down at his watch as Dean felt his radial pulse. He took a few deep breaths with his eyes closed, willing his heartbeat to slow down to a more normal rate. After about 5 minutes, his watch read 110.

“Eh, it’s not perfect, but it’s better,” Dean said. Sam took off his shirt to remove the strap from his chest. He looked down and saw the imprint it left against his sternum. He rubbed his fingers over it for a moment and felt the steady yet quick beat below. “Look, I gotta get to the hospital. I’m already late as it is.”

“I’m sorry man,” Sam said in a guilty tone. “I didn’t mean to make you late.”

“Don’t be, I chose to stay behind. You and Mom and Dad will always come first.” Dean stood up and ruffled Sam’s hair. Sam cracked a small smile and watched his brother leave. “Speaking of the rents, I’m gonna go make sure they don’t need anything.”

Dean made it to his bedroom door and turned around to look at Sam. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I know you’re a psychologist, but everyone needs to talk to someone when shit like this goes down. We have a program at the hospital called Professionals for Professionals. It’s a volunteer group of psychiatrists and therapists reserved exclusively for physicians who need counseling. Normally it’s only for Douglas County employees, but since you’re family, I can get you in at a moment’s notice. If you need it, that is.”

Sam pondered it for a moment. “Thanks Dean.”

“You’re welcome.” And with that, Dean left.

Sam put his shirt back on and left Dean’s room, heading to his own. But not before he took a look downstairs to see his parents huddle together on the couch.

When he figured they were alright, Sam went into his room and changed out of his running clothes. He smelled from his run but he didn’t care. He got into his bed, curled up and cried himself to sleep.

He wanted nothing more than to never wake up.

* * *

Later that night, after dinner was done and the kitchen was cleaned up, John turned on the TV with a beer in his hand, hoping to find out if the Rams had beat those damn Niners last night. But he found that the local TV station was broadcasting a live media briefing on the fire.

“Hey Mary!” John called out. “They’re doing a news briefing on the fire from this morning.”

Mary and Sam both stopped what they were doing and went into the living room. John took his place in the recliner, and Mary and Sam took the opposite ends of the couch. John turned up the volume so everyone could hear.

The mayor of Lawrence was standing in front of a podium that had at least 10 different microphones attached to it. Sam watched closely, putting his own beer on the coffee table in front of him, deciding that if he was going to throw up again, it wouldn’t be because of the alcohol.

“My name is William Francesco. I am the mayor of Lawrence, Kansas and tonight I am speaking on behalf of the Douglas County Fire Department, the Douglas County Office of Emergency Management as well as the Lawrence Police Department. Each department has prepared statement in regards to this morning’s tragic fire that devastated the Mandrel Institute of Behavioral Health and Wellness as well as our medical community. We are not taking any questions at this time. This is only to give the public an update on our investigation.”

Sam looked at his mother, who was clutching a pillow to her chest. Then he looked at his father, who was watching so intently he forgot he was holding his beer. It looked like it would slip out of his hand at any given moment.

The mayor went on. “First and foremost, on behalf of the mayor’s office we would like to thank all of our rescue workers, emergency medical personnel, law enforcement, as well as the emergency room professionals at Douglas County Regional Medical Center for their hard work and dedication during this tragedy. Our city is in good hands with these people working to protect and serve it.

“At approximately 6:25 this morning, the Douglas County Fire Department received several calls about a massive building fire. Upon arrival they found the Mandrel Institute fully involved and called for additional resources and prepared for defensive firefighting protocols. The fire was not declared under control until approximately 12:27 this afternoon. Douglas County received mutual aid from neighboring counties and city throughout northeastern Kansas and we thank them immensely for their support.

“When the building was declared safe for entry, a gruesome and heartbreaking scene unfolded. The Lawrence Police Department have confirmed that this fire has left no survivors. All 256 occupants who were inside at the time have died. That includes, staff, faculty, patients, as well as visitors. We are not releasing their identities at this time as we are still identifying remains and notifying next of kin. Our hearts and prayers go out to the victims and their families during this most difficult time.

“It is still too early in the investigation to comment, confirm or deny what may have caused this fire and we will be updating the public as soon as that information becomes available. The FBI, ATF, as well as local arson investigators with Douglas County will be working around the clock to determine the cause and develop ways it can be prevented in the future. Again, we will be keeping the public up to date on this tragedy as it becomes available. Thank you, and God bless.”

The mayor stepped down from the podium. The live feed cut back to whatever program was playing before it was interrupted. The Winchester family living room was dead quiet. Nobody said anything, and Sam was pretty sure his parents weren’t breathing right along with him.

Sam had held it in long enough. He couldn’t take it anymore. He burst into tears. Mary scooted over towards him and held her son in her arms. Sam once again cried himself to sleep, knowing the girl he loved was gone forever.

And despite what Dean had told him, he couldn’t help but blame himself.


	17. Me or You: Take Your Pick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets the final verdict in his case with the board, but it’s not all bad news. But when he discovers you’re still alive, he comes to your rescue. But is it really you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: HURT!SAM ANGST, INTENSE VIOLENCE, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, SAMMY’S SMUTTY THOUGHTS, DID I MENTION HURT!SAM? BECAUSE SAM GETS HURT. BADLY. [be safe, dear readers] 
> 
> A/N: This gif might give you a sense of what’s to come, so it’s going to get dark. As if I need to tell y’all that anymore. Again, be safe guys! Love y’all!

Two days after the fire, Sam got a phone call from the special investigator about his case.

“This is Sam,” he said after he clicked the answer button on his phone.

“Good morning, Dr. Winchester,” said a female voice on the other end. “My name is Matilda Alderson, I’m the special investigator with the Kansas Behavioral Sciences Regulatory Board assigned to your complaint case. How are you today?”

“Oh, hello. I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m well. Listen, there’s been a final decision in your case and the board is calling for another hearing. Can you be here at Eisenhower tomorrow morning at 9am?”

“Uh, yes. Yes I can.”

“Wonderful. Show up just like you did before, 15 minutes early, business professional attire, the works. If you have any questions just give me a call at this number. My extension is 38448.”

Sam jotted down the extension on the post-it note on his desk. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Have a good day, Doctor.” And with that, she hung up.

Sam decided to take it easy the rest of the day. He didn’t want to work himself up and speculate the worst. His pessimistic side always made him more nervous that he should’ve been. And his parents said they understood when he told them. Fortunately the house was already fairly clean so Sam knew he wouldn’t need to do any housework.

Sam just hoped that his projected optimism wasn’t going to bite him in the ass come tomorrow.

* * *

Dragon was still in possession of your body even after all of the fire investigators had left the scene. He had to stick around, wander the remains of the facility to admire his work.

“Man. I’ve done some impressive shit in the past, but THIS,” he said with a laugh and smile, “this _has_ to be my best work! I’ve really outdone myself!”

_“you’re a monster Dragon! What are you planning? Why won’t you talk to me?!” You screamed inside your own head._

Dragon snapped his fingers and you went silent again. He realized he was being way too lenient with you.

He continued walking the premises. He needed to figure out how to execute phase two of his plan.

It didn’t take him long. And he giggled in your voice when he realized how easy it was going to be to draw Sam to him.

To you.

* * *

Sam arrived at his destination way too early. He couldn’t sleep last night. After several nightmares he gave up at around 4am. It was always the same one too. He kept dreaming about you. Screaming. Shouting his name. Begging for help. Seeing you surrounded by nothing but burning furniture. Trapped, unable to escape. You were begging him to pull you out. He feared going to sleep again, so he just got up. He took a long hot shower, trying to shake his thoughts of you. It seems no matter what he did, he just couldn’t escape you.

Escape the guilt of letting you die alone.

He had an hour before his hearing so he went to the little café in the Eisenhower Office Building. He took his coffee to one of the tables and sat down, pulling papers out of his briefcase to read them. He was the only one beside the worker behind the counter who was in the café so he would be able to read in peace.

That was, until he suddenly had a massive headache. One that made him double over out of his chair. He grabbed his forehead and shouted out in agony. The lady behind the counter rushed to his side.

“Sir, what’s wrong?” she asked, panicked.

Sam couldn’t speak. The pounding pain in his head wouldn’t allow for speech. It also disrupted his hearing. He looked up at her with a confused look. Then it all stopped.

He panted as she was grabbing her cell phone to call 911. Sam reached up and touched her hand before she could bring the phone to her ear.

“N-no…it’s-it’s okay,” Sam said breathlessly. “I’m fine. Just…just a headache.”

“Sir, no disrespect,” she said warily, “but that was no headache.”

Sam pulled out one of his credentials. “I’m a doctor, ma’am. It’s alright. I’m fine. It was just a headache.” He looked at his watch and realized it was almost time for his hearing. He stood up, making sure he wouldn’t fall over from dizziness before taking a step. “Thank you, but I’m perfectly okay.” Before the woman could say anything to protest, he left.

* * *

Sam stood in the middle of the room behind a podium before a row of people seated behind wooden structures that looked like podiums all molded together. Everyone who was there before was in attendance. But there was an empty seat at the far right end of the room. The name tag in front of the chair read “Dr. Nigel Withman, MD.”

His heart sank.

“Samuel William Winchester, you have been brought before this board to hear final testimony in your case as well as our verdict. Do you understand your rights?” said one of the men behind the podiums.

Sam faced him. “Yes, sir.”

The board went around the room and every person gave their personal account of the facts as well as their recommendation for consequential action.

After everyone took their turn, the man who spoke at the beginning stood up.

“We had originally requested Dr. Withman join us today for this hearing. Normally it is not advised for professional close to the subject to speak on behalf of the defendant, but Nigel insisted, stating he had some ‘insight’  that would help your case. Given that he is…was…a valued board member for many years before ultimately retiring from the political life, it was hard for us to refuse.” The man sighed sadly. Sam could see the look of grief on his face. “However, due to his untimely passing, he won’t be joining us today. I would like to request that we take a moment of silence to remember him. His passion, his drive, and his commitment to bettering the people of Lawrence through his work within the mental health community.”

Everyone more or less lowered their eyes to the floor. Sam did the same. And he felt a hot tear slide down his cheek. It was so hard for him to believe that someone he looked up to was gone. And even though nobody here was going to blame him for the fire, Sam still felt guilty as hell.

He felt another headache come on, but he had taken some Ibuprofen before walking into the hearing, so it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it did in the café. He was able to keep his pains hidden from the board members.

“We of the Kansas Behavioral Sciences Regulatory Board have reached a decision in your case, Dr. Winchester.”

Sam looked at the man in the eyes. He was scared, his heart pounding, but he was ready for all of this to end so he, and everyone else, could move on with their lives.

“We have decided that you will still be able to hold license within the State of Kansas as a board certified forensic psychologist.”

Sam let out a breath that he wasn’t aware he was holding in. But he sensed they weren’t done. He was right.

“However, given the circumstances, we are executing a ban on you holding any sort of employment or volunteer position within any facility here in Lawrence. Application of such to any facility will require the hiring agency to immediately report said actions to the board. Violation of this ban will result in criminal charges and being stripped of your licensing status. Do you understand your rights?”

“Yes sir,” Sam replied.

“Do you have any questions, Dr. Winchester?”

“No sir.”

“You will be given a copy of today’s hearing in writing. This meeting is adjourned.”

Sam stopped by the desk just outside the meeting room to grab the papers he was entitled to and made his way out of the building.

But not before another headache came on. And this one was extremely intense.

He grabbed his head again and cried out in pain. His vision was going in and out, flashes of black and white. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears again and it was rapid. He became increasingly dizzy. The last thing he saw before his vision went out completely was several people running up to him. He collapsed.

_“Sam.”_

_“SAM!”_

_“Y/N?”_

_“you have to help me.”_

_“It’s okay baby, just tell me where you are.”_

_“You already know where I am.”_

_“huh?”_

_“Where it all began. Where_ we _began.”_

_“No, Y/N, please don’t go. I miss you. I…I love you….”_

_“Come find me. We’ll talk when you get here. I love you, Sam.”_

Sam woke up in the back of an ambulance, that apparently was parked outside the courthouse. Someone had called 911 after he collapsed. He doesn’t remember anything after that. He had an oxygen mask on his face, and there was a rapid beeping coming from somewhere within the back of the box. Slowly he realized that it was his heartbeat letting everyone know he was still here. He felt something tightening around his right bicep and he looked to see a blood pressure cuff around it. Then he felt something else tighten on his left bicep. When he looked to see that it was a tourniquet, he started fighting the paramedic about to start an IV.

“Whoa whoa hey buddy! Relax, you’re in an ambulance. You took quite a fall.” The paramedic said, setting down the catheter.

“I’m fine,” Sam breathed. He ripped the mask off his face and started peeling off the electrodes stuck to his chest. He was suddenly thankful he didn’t have chest hair…yet. Otherwise removing them would’ve hurt a lot more.

“You’re not fine, kid,” said the medic. “You took a hard hit. We just want to take you down to Douglas Regional to make sure nothing fragile was injured.”

“No way,” Sam shook his head. “Just let me sign a refusal and I’ll drive myself.”

“You’re in no condition to drive, man.”

“I’ll be fine. Besides,” Sam was buttoning up his shirt after removing all the medical devices previously attached to him. “My older brother runs the emergency department. He’ll never let me live it down if I showed up via EMS. No offense.”

The paramedic laughed. “Don’t worry, I know the feeling. Everyone in my family is in EMS. I’d get laughed at too.”

Sam was relieved that the medic didn’t argue. He signed the computer the medic handed up and hopped out of the rig. He was glad they didn’t take his keys or wallet out of his pocket. Now he just needed to remember where he parked his Charger.

The drive home was intense for Sam. He kept thinking about you, and what you said. You said he already knew where you were. Which meant he was going to have to do the unthinkable to find you.

And he knew he would get in a whole lot of trouble  if he got caught disturbing what was probably an active crime scene.

But he had to know for sure. He had to know you were safe.

So instead of going home, Sam made a U-turn and headed straight for what was left of his former place of employment.

* * *

Mary, John and Dean were finishing their nightly routine of cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. Mary was washing dishes by hand since their dishwasher recently broke, John was drying them and putting them away and Dean was wiping down the counters, with plans to sweep the floors after that.

“Has anyone heard from Sammy yet today?” Dean asked as he was putting away the counter cleaner. He went to grab the broom and dustpan. “It’s not like him to miss dinner. Kid could eat the entire house out if left to it.”

John chuckled. Mary spoke. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t heard anything from him since he left for his final hearing this morning. He was pretty tense.”

“Hell, I would be too if I knew I was up for losing my license to practice,” Dean replied. “I just hope he’s not drowning his sorrows at the local bar.”

“Well I just hope if he is, he doesn’t do anything that would land him in jail. I’ll never hear the end of it from Chief, ” John mused as he put the last of the dishes away in the cabinet. He made his way towards the living room, grabbing the remote. He turned on the TV.

“Hey guys, they’re about to go live on an update to the fire.”

Dean set aside the broom and dustpan and followed his mother out to where his father was standing. They all crowded around the TV and saw the mayor stepping up to a podium not unlike the one they saw a few weeks ago.

“Good evening. This is William Francesco, Mayor of Lawrence, with an update to the Mandrel fire.

“We want to again thank everyone who has poured their time and energy into this investigation and we are fortunate to be able to provide some new information.

“We have identified all of the victims of this tragedy and their families have been notified. These family are being aided in giving their passed loved ones proper funerals. But we want to make an addendum to the previously released information. It was said during our last media briefing that there were 256 casualties. It has now come to our attention that there were 255 casualties and one missing person. The person in question has not been seen or heard from since before the fire and their remains were not found at the crime scene. We are therefore extending a plea to the public for help in finding this person. We believe they may have valuable information as to how the fire started but is not considered a suspect at this time.

“The missing person has been identified as Y/N Y/L/N of Chicago, Illinois. Miss Y/L/N was a permanent patient here at Mandrel.”

Dean’s heart dropped to his knees. _Oh fuck._

“Isn’t that…” Mary began.

“That’s Sammy’s girl. The one who landed him in this mess,” Dean said with clenched teeth. Now he was suspicious as to where his little brother was at. _No. He couldn’t be that stupid…_

“Though this individual is not considered a suspect of any recent crime, the public does need to be made aware: Miss Y/L/N was committed by reason of insanity for a quadruple homicide in Chicago about 8 months ago. For everyone’s safety, this person is to be considered armed and dangerous. If you see her or know of her whereabouts, do not engage or approach her. Call 911. Or if you wish to give an anonymous tip, our Crime Stoppers hotline is always open.” The Winchesters saw the number for the local Crime Stoppers hotline flash across the screen.

The mayor finished his speech with the usual ending, stating no question were being taken at this time as it was yet another media briefing. Then he stepped down, leaving the Winchesters to ponder what they’d just learned.

“Mom, Dad, I think I know where Sam is.” Dean said, reality hitting him square in the gut.

“You don’t think he’s…” Mary started, but then clasped her hands over her mouth in shock.

“Sam’s going back there to find her. I know it.”

“Son, you can’t be sure of-” John said but Dean cut him off.

“Think about it Dad. He’s been blaming himself for all of this! He’s been thinking that Y/N’s death was his fault. That if he was still her doctor he could’ve saved her. He’s been a mess since all this shit happened! If Sammy’s found out that she’s alive, he’s going to go try and help her. I know him too damn well.”

There was a moment of silence as the Winchesters contemplated the youngest member of their family and his potential actions.

“Dad, Sam’s in danger. I’m going to go find him.”

“Not alone, you’re not.” John said firmly.

Dean wanted to argue with his old man but he knew it was futile. Dean just nodded and grabbed his jacket.

“I’m going to go back to the station and grab my squad car. It should be out of the shop by now. I’m also gonna put out an APB on Sam. If he’s in trouble, we’re gonna need backup. Whatever Y/N was capable of then, there’s no telling what she could do now. We’re not taking any chances. I’ll see you guys in a few.” And with that, John disappeared into his bedroom, no doubt changing into his police uniform.

Dean kiss his mother on the cheek. She was very distraught. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’re gonna go make sure Sam is safe. I promise.”

* * *

Sam was surprised there wasn’t police tape surrounding the burned out wreckage. So he was able to drive right up. He parked his car and got out, not bothering to lock it with his key fob. He manually locked the doors and quietly closed the driver side door as he didn’t want to alert anyone to his presence.

Part of Sam was wishing he’d been armed before coming here. He kicked himself for not being as prepared as he should’ve been. But he knew if he’d gone home first, someone was going to ask why he needed a loaded pistol. And he didn’t have the heart to lie to his family any more than he already had.

He slowly made his way towards the burned down building. It wasn’t safe structurally but he had a feeling he wouldn’t need to go far. If you really were inside, you probably were going to meet him.

While looking, he thought of all the possible scenarios. He’d have to take you somewhere safe. You were a wanted woman at this point, having broken all the rules in place. You’d be forever hidden from the world when Sam finally got a hold of you. He couldn’t bring you back to his place. One, it would be awkward for him and his girlfriend to be living with his parents. Two, they would never understand why he was hiding you, not really. And three, you being there would put his parents and his brother in grave danger. But homelessness or living out of his car with him to keep you safe was better than rotting in a prison cell again.

But Sam had yet to answer the biggest question gnawing at his mind. How the hell did you survive the fire? Why weren’t you a pile of smoldering ash like everyone else? Did you manage to escape? No, that’s impossible. The door to your room is only accessible from the outside, creating a glorified prison cell. There’s no way you would’ve made it out at all. Unless…

“Hello, Sam.”

Sam whipped around at the sound of your voice, and his breath hitched.

You were wearing normal clothes. Which was new to Sam’s eyes because he had only ever seen you in the all-white standard scrubs they gave every resident at Mandrel. You had on a black spaghetti strapped tank top, with a green flannel button down shirt over that, and a black leather jacket on top of that. Your tank top was tucked into a pair of denim skinny jeans and the cuffs of your jeans were tucked into ankle high biker boots. You had your hair down and make up done lightly to compliment your complexion. You also had bumps and curves in all the right places, and it made Sam want to just grab you and fuck you against the hood of his car. You were smoking hot. Sam’s heart was beating really fast at this point. You were whole. You were okay.

Sam ran to you and embraced you. You embraced him back. You smelled so good to him. He kissed the top of your head. “I never thought I’d see you again. I…I thought…” he breathed.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” You said with a smile. “I didn’t think you would come.”

“Of course I came. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I really wanted to believe you weren’t stupid.”

Sam looked at you with a confused look, then one of horror as your eyes went matte black.

“What the fuck?”

“Sam Winchester!” You bellowed out, thought it quite sound like your voice. “It’s finally nice to meet my latest meat suit’s hot piece of ass. And my, aren’t you a looker!”

Realization dawn on Sam, and his heart froze in his chest. “Dragon.”

You took a bow. “At your service, Doctor.” You started circling him slowly. “I have to say, of all the people I’ve taken possession of, this one is particularly interesting.”

“Oh yeah,” Sam snarled. “How so?” _Fuck I really wish I’d brought a gun._

“Y/N is the only one who has been able to fight me and almost win! It’s been a lot of fun!” you said. “I gotta say I didn’t give her nearly enough credit.”

Sam brought up his hands into a fighting stance. You just laughed.

“Oh that’s cute. You really think you can win a hand-to-hand with a demon?”

“Is that what you are? A demon?” Sam asked, not dropping his stance or his guard. “Gotta say, I didn’t think demons were real.”

“Oh honey there’s a lot about the supernatural you’re oblivious to. There’s _way_ more of me walking this dirt trap than you think. We’re everywhere. And you can’t stop us. But enough about me,” you giggled. You brought your fingers up to your temples and tapped them lightly. “You know she’s still in here with me.”

Sam didn’t flinch, but he felt his heart kick hard against his ribs.

“Even though I’ve basically drugged her unconscious, even now, she’s still fighting me for control. A fruitless effort, but valiant…if you wanna call it that…”

Sam paused for a moment, and it all came to him. “That was you. It was you who talked to me in my mind. Those headaches. Me blacking out and waking up in an ambulance. That was all you, wasn’t it?”

You laughed. “Okay maybe you’re not as stupid as you appear to be.”

You and Sam continued to circle each other, like one of you was waiting for the other to strike first. “I just wanna know one thing, Dragon.”

“I am an open book, Sammy. For the most part, anyway,” you said with a wink.

“Why?”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, darling.”

“Why all of this?” he waved his arm towards Mandrel’s footprint. “Why her? What do you get out of this? What’s your end game?”

“That’s for me to know, and you to never find out. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for you to see why you’ll never see me, or her, again.”

Sam didn’t see it coming. He had no time to prepare. He didn’t see the dagger you’d swiftly produced and launched at him. Therefore, he had no time to dodge it as it sank itself deep into the left side of his chest. He dropped to the ground, trying to pull it out but it hurt too much. He couldn’t move. And you were on top of him in an instant.

“I’m going to enjoy watching the light leave those beautiful eyes of yours,” you whispered coldly. You ripped the blade out of his chest and Sam yelped. Then you continued to stab him repeatedly. You were acting like you had calculated each stab wound and smiled deliciously as each one hit their intended target. You left the dagger sticking out of his belly as you proceeded to beat the living shit out of Sam’s face. But at that point, he didn’t feel it.

He hadn’t lost consciousness yet, but he could feel the edges of his vision going blank. The internal blood loss was start to take over. He struggled to draw breath, but couldn’t. The smile on your face with your eyes blackened again was the last thing he saw before he exhaled slowly into nothingness.

* * *

Dean had no idea what to expect when he finally arrived, but he came packing just in case. He saw Sam’s car parked in the parking lot.  But it wasn’t he got out of his own car, armed and ready, and saw a horrific scene in front of him.

He bolted straight to Sam’s lifeless form and cringed at the blade sticking out.

“Sam? SAMMY!!” He gingerly picked his brother off the ground and cradled him in his arms. But through his tears and fears, he knew he was being stupid. His brother needed a doctor badly and he was thankful he was one. Dean laid Sam back down on the ground and ran to the truck of the ’67 Impala their dad had given him. He opened the truck and then popped open the false bottom to reveal an arsenal of medical supplies and gear. He propped open the false bottom with an old crowbar and dug around until he found what he was looking for. It was just a regular paramedic bag that every Douglas County FD ambulance had but it would do the job until he could radio for EMS backup.

He grabbed the bag, his portable radio, and ran back to Sam.

But before he could do anything, he noticed that Sam wasn’t breathing.

He wanted to curl up and cry but he couldn’t do that. Dean grabbed his radio and called it in. Within a minute, John pulled up in his cruiser, lights and sirens blaring. He didn’t bother turning them off as he saw what was in front of him and ran straight to his sons. He damn near collapsed at the sight of his youngest son, clinging to life.

Dean was frozen. He knew what he had to do to save his brother’s life, but he couldn’t move.

“Dad he’s been stabbed. He’s not breathing. I-” Dean choked back a sob. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You do what you’d do for any other patient in this situation. You kick it in the ass and save your brother’s life.” John said, fighting back his own emotions. He needed to be strong for his boys. Especially Sam.

Before either of them could do or say anything else, an ambulance, a fire truck, and several more squad cars pulled up, all running hot and lighting up the area with their wig-wags and lightbars.

Dean and John both slowly got up and let the medics do their job.

Of all the things John and Dean had seen and done in their careers, seeing Sam dead was the worst thing that they never thought they’d ever encounter.


	18. No Regrets This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is rushed to the intensive care after the reader’s attack. Mary sits with Sam and has a conversation with him that he’s not ready for. When he’s released from the hospital, Sam reached out to Dean for help on dealing with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: HURT!SAM, ANGST, MOTHER/SON FLUFF, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE.

Calling the moments after the ambulance arrived to the Winchester’s location tense was the understatement of the year if Dean had ever heard one.

The paramedics arrived and started working quickly on Sam. They immediately had to intubate him cause he wasn’t breathing. They managed to control his bleeding on scene before loading him up into the unit. On the way to the hospital, he lost his pulse and they had to perform CPR. The medics, knowing who Dean was, asked him if he wanted to ride along and help, but he could barely shake his head. Nobody questioned him. How could they?

Sam was immediately rushed into emergency surgery, something else that Dean refused to participate in. He didn’t even want to stand beside him while he was worked on, something he had the privilege of doing given his position at Douglas County Regional. He decided it was best to trust his colleagues to take care of his little brother. John went home to get Mary and bring her to the hospital. The three of them just sat in the waiting room of the OR and waited. What felt like weeks later, one of Dean’s ER surgical residents emerged from the operating room to give them the news.

“Sam is stable for the time being,” he said, looking exhausted.

Mary practically collapsed into John’s arms with relief. Dean just smiled and breathed like he’d been competing in a ‘who can hold their breath the longest’ contest.

“He’s lost a lot of blood, which we’re working on replenishing. Fortunately your brother has a common blood type and we’re in no shortage. Whoever attacked him…knew exactly what they were doing.”

“What do you mean, Art?” Dean asked, dread pooling in his gut.

“All of his stab wounds were aimed at damaging every internal organ in his torso.” Art went on. “But for some reason, he wasn’t stabbed anywhere near his heart. It’s like his attacker didn’t want to outright kill him. He was stabbed just below the left side of his rib cage but it just nicked his lung. It was a simple fix. All of his organs just needed stitches, no major damage. He will recover.”

The Winchesters were absolutely relieved at the news. Sam was eventually going to be okay.

“Given how healthy Sam is,” Art continued, “I don’t expect him to be in the ICU for very long.”

“Well you can be sure that he’ll be in good hands,” Mary smiled at Dean, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. Dean was so thankful his mother also worked in the hospital with him. Even if they were on completely different floors.

“It’s gonna be a while before he’s up in recovery. Once he’s settled, you guys can go see him.”

* * *

Seeing Sam lying unconscious in the Surgical Intensive Care Unit shattered what was left of Dean’s already broken heart. Short of life support, he was attached to every machine and intervention the hospital carried. Monitors for his vital signs, IV pumps with bags tubing, some of which contained blood, and a ventilator which was currently breathing for him. Dean dragged a chair and sat as close as he could to his baby brother without disturbing the scene before him.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean whispered. He placed his hand gently on Sam’s, careful not to occlude his IV site. Sam’s face had definitely seen better days. Both eyes were blackened and several cuts on his face were closed together with butterfly bandages. Dean was glad they didn’t have to suture his face in anyway. As much as Dean teased him for being the more “handsome” of the two brothers, he knew it would hurt Sam’s pride. He’s suffered enough.

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” Dean said, not even bothering to stop the tears from falling. “It’s my job to protect you and I let you know. If I’d known-” he choked back a sob “I’d known you were gonna do something this stupid, I wouldn’t have let you go out alone. Or hell, I’d at least made sure you were packing.”

Dean pondered, listening to the slow steady beeping of Sam’s heart monitor, a constant reminder that his brother was, in fact, alive.

“Why did you do it? What drove you to go back there?”

Then it clicked in his head.

“Y/N.”

* * *

Sam didn’t emerge from his coma for another week, but he was moved out of the SICU and down to the regular ICU, where his mother had apparently demanded she be the sole nurse in charge of his care. It wasn’t a peaceful awakening either. He started fighting his endotracheal tube, meaning he could breathe on his own again. Having been extubated, he sat up, letting the doctors in the ICU do their job. After he got something to eat (which wasn’t a whole lot given he was on a very restricted diet due to the stab wounds to his stomach) he started thinking back to the last thing he remembered.

You.

The knife.

Your eyes.

_Dragon._

He knew that slimy son of a bitch was going to pay for everything he’d done. To you and to him. But he was getting himself worked up as the heart monitor started beeping at a faster rate. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, not wanting to alert anyone that he was in distress.

Two days later, his mom walked in to see him. Only instead of his chart, she was carrying two trays of food. He couldn’t tell which one was his as they both looked identical. It seemed like she had made arrangements so that Sam was her only patient on the floor. Sam appreciated it. He really didn’t want any other nurse there. He only wanted Mary.

“Hey sweetheart,” Mary said softly. “I, uh, I figured I’d take my lunch break here with you. You hungry?”

“Yeah, thanks Mom,” Sam smiled. Some of the bandages he had on his face already could be removed and he was able to open his eyes fully again, despite the light purple, green, and yellow blotches around them. “So which one is mine?”

“Whichever one you want.” Mary said with a smile. Sam looked at her surprised. “I asked your doctor if you could be taken off your diet restrictions, given your excellent progress, and he said yes. Congratulations, honey.”

“Thanks Mom,” Sam beamed, his dimples peeking out.

They ate while exchanging comfortable chit-chat. Sam asked how John and Dean were doing, Mary went on the usual patter about how ‘your dad works too much’ and how Dean ‘really needs to find friends outside of work to drink beer with.’ Sam laughed at that, wincing a bit as some of his stitches still kind of hurt.

After lunch, Mary took the trays and set them on a counter. Then she left to grab his chart and mark down his updated vital signs. Once she was satisfied with what she wrote down, she sat back in her chair and gave Sam a look that told him it was time to talk.

“Sam,” Mary began, “if you’re willing, I’d like to talk to you. But not on a professional level. On a personal one. As mother and son.”

“Uhh, sure,” Sam said, wondering what his mother had in mind.

Mary took a deep breath before asking the one question that Sam didn’t think he’d hear this soon.

“Why’d you do it?”

Sam sighed, smilingly sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous. “Mom. I…I can’t really explain.”

“Why not?”

“It wouldn’t really make sense to someone in our field.”

“You think there’s something going on that’s can’t be explained medically?”

Sam pondered on that question. “Mom…I’m just… really not up for talking about it now…” he said as he laid back to rest.

And with that, Mary didn’t press on. She kicked herself internally for being so forward.

* * *

Three days after that heart to heart with his mother, Sam was released from the hospital. He was even given clearance to drive. So Dean picked him up and brought him to his car, which was still at Mandrel. Dean was glad that the police cleaned up the crime scene, otherwise Sam would’ve returned to see his blood all over the place.

Dean put the Impala in park and turned her off. Him and Sam both got out of the car and slowly started walking up to Sam’s Charger, which also was clean.

“Hey Dean?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’m not even sure I should bring this up but…I need help.”

“Well like I said before, Professionals for Profess-”

“No no, not that kind of help. I mean help with…Y/N.”

Dean looked at Sam. “Oh. What kind of help?”

Sam took a breath. “There’s definitely something wrong with her. But I think it’s something that can’t be explained by us medical professionals. I… I think she’s possessed.”

Dean could’ve made any wisecrack joke with that statement, but decided to take his little brother seriously. “You mean like…possessed by a demon?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “She kept telling me that the voice inside her head had a name. She called him ‘Dragon’. And the night…” Sam swallowed nervously. “Well, the night she attacked me-”

“Wait, Y/N attacked you?” said Dean.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t really her. Her eyes were completely black, and her voice was…altered a bit. She also attacked me like she bench-pressed 400 plus a day. I _know_ she doesn’t have that kind of strength on her own.”

Dean rubbed his face with his hand, taking in this information. He contemplated what he was about to say, not knowing how his brother would take it.

“I think I can help.”

Sam snapped his head up to look at Dean. “You can?”

“While in medical school,” Dean began, “I did a term paper. I was given the subject ‘things that medicine can help but necessarily explain’. And I chose demonic possession.”

Sam looked at him flabbergasted. Dean just chuckled.

“I know, right? What the fuck would being possessed by a demon have to do with medicine? But apparently a lot. In order to write this paper I had to do a ton of research on it. I learned that there’s an entire world of supernatural things that no one’s even heard about. The paper got me laughed at for the next week but I got a good grade on it. So apparently I’m not entirely crazy.”

Sam was impressed. Maybe there was hope for you after all.

“I can help you out, little brother. Meet me back at my place and we’ll start from there.”


	19. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean go to some pretty crazy lengths to find you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SLIGHT ANGST, SOME FLUFF. 
> 
> A/N: Hey whaddalookatthat! I actually made a short chapter. Glory! This one is a break from the usual intensity of this story as the next chapter is probably gonna make y’all hate me even more. Consider it a feels/angst buffer for what’s to come. Enjoy!

Dean filled Sam’s head with all kinds of stories and tales of the supernatural. All the things that go bump in the night. Except they weren’t the glorified Brothers’ Grimm stories told to kids since time immemorial. They were real. As real as the scars Sam now sported all over his body. A constant reminder that you were more dangerous that he wanted to believe.

It fascinated Sam to no end. Knowing about this apparent “other world.” He wanted more than what Dean was telling him. He thirsted for this new knowledge. He hadn’t felt this excited about learning new things since he was new at Stanford. That’s probably why he ended up top of his class. He spent all of his waking moment that wasn’t spent in classes or with Jessica reading his textbooks.

“Alright we need to form a plan. How exactly we’re gonna go about this.” Sam said after Dean stopped talking. “We can’t take any chances with Y/N. Given what she did to me,” he absentmindedly rubbed the left side of his chest, remembering the pain, “we can’t expect her to go easy on me. Or you. Hell, she might even try something worse with you considering you’re helping me.”

“And that, little brother,” Dean said with a sly smile, pulling his pistol out and cocking it, “is what babies like this are for.” Sam just rolled his eyes.

“Dean, we can’t kill her. Even though she’s possessed, she’s still in there somewhere. If we kill the demon, she’ll die right along with it.”

“Sam I’m not letting her hurt anyone else. Seeing you like that,” Dean sighed, struggling to find the right words, “I can’t go through that again. I won’t.”

“Okay, promise me this,” Sam said, understanding Dean’s perspective.  “Promise me you won’t do anything to her until we know more.”

Dean gave Sam a pointed look. Sam stood his ground. “Dean promise me!”

“Alright, fine.” Dean said frustrated, putting his gun away. “What’s the plan?”

“Well, I’m fairly certain that Y/N was taken into custody after the ordeal. But I can’t be sure.”

“She wasn’t there when I found you, that’s certain.” Dean said. “She might already be gone.”

“Yeah but the police station is our only lead. It’s a good place to start.”

And with that, Sam and Dean heading to Dean’s Impala and they peeled out of the parking lot of Dean’s apartment complex.

* * *

It was complete pandemonium at the station when the brothers arrived. Officers were running left and right. Sam and Dean tried to get someone’s attention but it was a futile effort. So Dean did the only thing he thought was wise. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled so loudly everyone stopped and looked directly at them.

“Hey guys!” Dean said cheerfully. Sam just kept up his stoic facial expression, letting his brother do the talking. For now. “We’re looking for Y/N Y/L/N. She’s about…” Dean trailed off, realizing he actually had no idea what you looked like. Fortunately Sam came to his rescue, producing an 8x10 printout of you.

“She would look like this,” Sam said to the crowd. “Please it’s important that we find her.”

“Yeah join the club bucko,” a male officer shouted.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s not here. She was in the county lock up downstairs but she broke out. It was an explosion!”

Dean looked at Sam and they exchanged a concerned look.

“Can we see her cell?” Sam asked.

“Not without clearance, sorry,” said an officer closer to them.

Dean smirked and pulled out what looked like a leather wallet. When he opened it, Sam’s jaw almost hit the floor.

“Well good thing we came when we did. I’m Special Agent Willis, this is Special Agent Rickman, FBI. Forgive my partner, he’s a rookie and left his badge at home. I can vouch for him.”

None of the officers bothered to really look at Dean’s badge. They just directed them to the hallway that led to the basement where the jailcells were.

When they were out of earshot, Sam slapped Dean on the back of the shoulder. “Really? FBI agents? Where the hell did you get that badge at?”

“Had it made at Kinko’s.” Dean smiled, proud of his accomplishments.

“And those agent name? Die Hard, seriously?”

“Hey Die Hard is an awesome movie. Don’t knock a good Bruce Willis flick. Better than anything _you_ watch.”

“Whatever,” Sam sighed, annoyed.

“Hey it got us in, right? So stop whining about it.”

Sam rolled his eyes again and followed Dean’s lead. They eventually reached the cells and sure enough, found what looked like a massive explosion. They walked around the rubble to find the cell you were originally in. And it wasn’t a pretty sight. There was a gaping hole in the wall behind the cell, that led to the outside world. It took up about 80% of the wall, but there was no sign that you were hurt. Sam thought that if you were within inches of the blast, he would’ve found your remains. He shuddered at the thought. He didn’t know what he’d do if he found you dead.

He had to save you no matter what. And you _were_ capable of being saved. They just had to find you first.


	20. The Devil Went Down To Addison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam finally track you down, and despite being as prepared as they could be, nothing could’ve prepared Sam for what happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: MAJOR AMOUNT OF DEATH, SEVERE ANGST, INJURIES, EXTREME VIOLENCE, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE
> 
> A/N: OKAY! Brace yourselves, guys. This one is going to be rough. Very rough. Remember kids. This is a work of fiction. It’s not that serious.

Several weeks went by with Sam and Dean digging up information about your whereabouts. It wasn’t easy, and Sam wondered how people did this solely for a living. _If_ they did this for a living. Dean even took some of his paid vacation so he could focus on this task. Dean thought Sam going after you was nuts given when you did to him, but he couldn’t bear to let his little brother go this alone. He was determined to help him.

“I think I found something!” Sam called out.

Dean came from his bedroom and met Sam in the tiny kitchen/dining room his apartment offered. Sam was in front of his laptop, studying the screen intently.

“Whatcha got, Sammy?”

“It’s Sam. And there was a sighting of a woman fitting Y/N description in Addison, Michigan.”

“That sounds kinda random,” Dean said, sitting down across from Sam.

“Not really. Addison is where Y/N’s dad Frank is from. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that someone looking exactly like her is there.”

“I think you might be right,” Dean said. “So…you up for a roadtrip?”

And with that, Sam closed his laptop.

* * *

Dean called into work and requested a few more days off. They he packed his bags and took Sam back to their parents’ house so he could pack. They told John and Mary that Sam needed to get away for a while, given everything that had happened, and Dean was offering to take him on a roadtrip to do some sightseeing. Sam didn’t expect them to be gone longer than a week so he packed accordingly. After his bags were loaded up in Dean’s car, he squeezed into the passenger seat and Dean fired up the Impala. And they were off. Not knowing what to expect in the slightest.

It was an 11 ½ hour trip from Lawrence to Addison, MI so Dean made sure he had every cassette tape available for tunes. Sam didn’t much care for his brother’s outdated music collection so he made sure his iPod was fully juiced up with all the music and audiobooks his heart desired. Though it was hardly needed. Half the trip the brothers spent time catching up. Dean talked more about shit at work, Sam commented on some of the patients Dean talked about, offering his opinion from a psychologist’s standpoint. They split the travel bill it was going to take to get up there, Sam offered to pay for gas if Dean paid for road food. When they finally made it to Addison WI, their first task was to find the cheapest motel to stay in. But upon arrival, they were met with utter devastation.

“What the fuck…” Dean muttered to himself.

“Oh my god…” Sam also said.

It was like a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Every single structure had been desecrated to the ground. Nothing was left standing. What wasn’t completely molted to ashes was still on fire. Bodies were all over the place. Sam and Dean immediately got out of the car to check for survivors.

Sam found the first body of a woman lying on her side. When he went to check for a pulse, his fingers were met with ice cold skin. She’d been dead a long time.

Dean met with the same thing for the most part. Not a single person was left with a heartbeat. It chilled Dean to his very core.

“They’re all dead,” Sam said. He looked around and saw what looked like elementary school students lying among them. “Even the children weren’t spared. It’s like anyone and everyone who was in her way… nobody here stood a chance.” He shuddered, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. He shook his head to rid himself of these emotions. He needed to stay focused on his mission: finding you. Preferably alive. Assuming Dragon hadn’t already killed you.

Sam was glad Dean insisted on replacing everything in the truck of the Impala with guns and various weaponry. But even with all that bulleted confidence, Dean was starting to doubt if being here looking for you was a good idea. Every instinct Dean had told him to take his little brother and run. But he knew Sam wouldn’t allow that. Stubborn jackass that he was, Dean knew no amount of talking would get him away from here. He’d asked practically on the hour every hour they were on the road together. And the answer was always the same.

“I have to save her. I’m the only one who can, the only one who knows and understands what’s going on inside her. If I don’t get to her, no one else well. Now would you quit asking me that? My answer is not going to change.”

Dean supposed Sam was right. They’d done enough research to have a general idea of what they were walking into. But they never thought they’d be met with this level of obliteration.

They went ahead and assumed everyone lying on the ground was dead so they went back to the truck of the car and armed themselves. Sam had a sawed-off shotgun loaded with specially made rounds for killing demons, and Dean had the same only in a Magnum .44 pistol. They needed to make sure their arm was good because they were very limited on ammunition. Dean refused to tell Sam where he’d gotten the guns or ammo from, despite his desperate attempts at asking. So Sam just assumed it was through less than legitimate means and dropped the subject.

They started walking through the desolate wasteland that was now Addison. To Sam it felt like an eternity walking through empty streets of nothingness besides the burning dilapidated structures  keeping them company. But then, an explosion rang out in front of them, close to the very heart of the city. After they brushed off the debris, made sure the other was okay, and the smoke cleared, they saw you. You were floating slightly above what used to be the central waterfall of the city. Your eyes were still the same shade of black they’d been the night you attacked Sam. Dean hadn’t seen them before so it stunned him a bit. Of all the things he’d read about demons, seeing one in the flesh was a completely different experience.

* * *

“I take it you’re Y/N,” Dean called out. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“The same could be said about you, Dean Michael Winchester.” You spat back. Dean’s eyes narrowed.

Sam’s heart was pounding hard at the sight of you. The clothes he remembered you wearing that night were tattered and torn. You weren’t wearing your leather jacket anymore, and your flannel was torn as was your tank top. He could see the skin underneath your left breast exposed. Your jeans were also torn up and he could see a very small patch of your black panties. You also were no longer wearing shoes or socks, leaving you barefoot. Sam guessed all the destruction hadn’t left you completely unscathed.

“Y/N, we just want to talk. We’re here to help you.”

“Hmmm….Y/N is not here right now. Currently out of her mind. Leave a message at the beep!” you smiled in the most sinister way. “or…boom…whatever floats ya.”

Sam and Dean had a split second’s warning before an explosion went off right in front of them. They both flung themselves out of the way, but they didn’t evade the shrapnel. It cut Sam’s cheek deep, and Dean got a faceful of it, blinding him in one eye. Sam ran over to his brother, but yelped in pain. He looked down and saw a piece of metal sticking out of his boot. He yanked it out as hard as he could, not caring if it did more damage. Which he instantly regretted as he let out another cry of severe pain, making it more difficult to walk. But he managed, and he limped as fast as he could over to Dean, who was struggling to see.

“You okay?” Sam said breathlessly.

“Bitch got me good. I can’t see out of my left eye. Fuck!” Dean said through gritted teeth. He also was limping but Sam managed to get him upright. They looked up to see you making your way towards the pair of them. Sam and Dean braced for the worst.

You floated down to the ground and slowly walked, a trail of fire in your wake.

“You know,” you said with a hint of Dragon’s voice. “I’m getting pretty sick and tired of you two playing the fucking heroes of this story.” You punched Dean, knocking him out of Sam’s arms and far away into unconsciousness. You then grabbed Sam by his shirt collar and hoisted him up in the air, letting his feet dangle as he tried to fight back. “You think she _wants_ to be saved?” You punched him in the face. “Did she _ASK_ you to be saved?” You followed that punch with a kick to Sam’s balls. An unnaturally high pitched squeak escaped from his lips and he tried to cup his groin in his hands like it would dissipate the pain. “Let me tell you something, _Winchester_ , I SAVED HER. I PULLED HER FROM THE DEPTHS OF DESPAIR! I’M THE ONE WHO MADE HER REALIZE HOW MUCH SHE’S WORTH. THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP ME AND MY PLANS FOR HER! NOTHING!!”

“How is killing her family saving her?” Sam struggled to say, but his shirt collar was cutting off his oxygen supply. He could start to see black spots dancing across his vision. “all you’ve done is made sure she had nothing to live for?”

You twisted your lips into a snarled evil smile. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.” You dropped Sam to the ground, and he crumbled and curled into a ball, knowing he was outmatched. You smiled sweetly and circled around him, “I believe the last time we met, I was to make sure you never saw me or her again. Apparently I underestimated you.” You took a step back as Sam turned to face you. Terror rose up from within him as you brought your hand up and fire started to develop at the center of your palm.

“Y/N…please don’t…..I love you.”

There was a heartbeat where your facial expression changed and the black in your eyes disappeared. Just when Sam thought he had gotten through to you, _actually_ you, it went away. Your eyes went back to being black and the fire on your hand shown brighter than before.

“I hope you have your affairs in order. And that you prefer cremation.”

* * *

Sam’s tears were now spilling out of his eyes and a rapid speed. He closed his eyes as he knew there was no way out of this one. He was going to die at the hands of his lover.

But the fire never came.

When he opened his eyes, he saw his brother’s form being roasted and burned alive. Dean’s screams echoed throughout the entire town. Sam refused to close his eyes despite the blazing heat. By the time it was over, Dean was gone. Reduced to a smoldering pile of ashes.

“DEEEEEEEEEEEAN!!!!!!!”

He hovered over the ashes in disbelief, unsure if to touch them or not. But when he snapped his head back up, you were gone.

Leaving Sam to contemplate what had just happened.

But he didn’t. He just collapsed to the ground next to what was left of his older brother and sobbed uncontrollably.


	21. Unforeseen Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Dean gone, Sam faces the difficult task of telling his parents the truth. But how will John and Mary take it as they now have to prepare for a funeral without a body?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: MORE SERIOUS ANGST, FIGHTING.
> 
> A/N: Everybody breathe. The worst has passed. We can only go up the mountain from this valley. Glory! To those that are still here to read this, thank you for sticking by me and for your support. I had a really tough time writing the last chapter. You think y’all are reeling over reading it? Whoo…. but *clap* enough of that! Let’s move forward! :D
> 
> A/N2: So this chapter was originally suppose to be two separate ones but it kinda seemed redundant as I got closer to it, so the italics represent the first chapter and the regular text represents what would’ve been the second chapter (if that makes sense)

_Sam somehow manages to pick himself up off the ground and make it back to Dean’s car. For some reason, Dean had left the Impala running. He was thankful for that because by the time he made it, he needed to get the hell out of dodge. When he looked back at the carnage, he noticed the wind had picked up. It scattered Dean’s remains into oblivion. Now there really was nothing to bring home to their mother and father._

_Sam fought through the pain of driving to get himself to the nearest hospital. He wanted to make sure there was enough distance between Addison and whatever hospital he went to was so he drove into Iowa. He checked himself into the ER at a hospital he couldn’t remember the name of. The professionals there did a full exam, blood work, X-rays, and a CT scan of his head to make sure he wasn’t concussed. His ankle wasn’t broken, strained or sprained, it was just cut up nicely. He was given some antibiotic cream and some bandaging supplies as his story was he was “on the road a lot” and “got into an accident.” He made sure to park the Impala as far away as he could physically walk so that it looked like he walked to the ER. Other than that, he was given a clean bill of health and was released. He was already feeling a bit better and walking was easier. When he made it back to the Impala and started it up, reality set back in._

_The drive back to his parents’ house was somber. He didn’t play music, he didn’t listen to any of his audiobooks, he just drove in silence, the sound of the road passing by accompanied with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears._

_Apparently John and Mary were up all night and didn’t sleep because when Sam walked through the door, they jumped up from the couch and ran over to Sam, their worried looks only breaking Sam’s resolve further._

_It all happened in slow motion. The words spilling from Sam’s mouth, Mary bursting into tears and falling into John’s arms, John catching Mary and his own face breaking into hysterical sobs. Sam could only stand there and watch. He thinks they’re fortunately to be able to be told this, rather than being inches from where Dean was flambéed alive. Sam was at least hoping that Dean didn’t suffer in dying._

_10 years ago, Sam would’ve forgotten his love for you and sought out revenge. Make you pay for what you did to his only brother. But that’s was then and this is now. He still believed he could help you, even after all of this. And he was more determined than ever now to do just that._

_After Sam disappeared into his room, John and Mary started making phone calls. John called the local funeral home to start making arrangements and Mary started calling what little loved ones they had left who would be able to come pay respects to Dean. Mary also called her boss at Douglas County and informed them about Dean’s death and that she wouldn’t be coming in for the next week or so. Her boss told her to take as much time as she needed. Then she called Dean’s boss and gave him the news. To say that his colleagues were devastated was an understatement. His boss said that many people planned to attend whatever services the Winchesters planned to have. Mary thanked them for their condolences and hung up. John had just hung up the phone with the funeral home and they sat at their kitchen table. And cried._

* * *

Dean’s memorial service was a week later and it was beautiful. There were only four faux velvet covered chairs in front of an empty casket about to be lowered into the ground. One for the each of the only family members Dean had left: John, Mary, Sam, and their Uncle Bobby. John tried to talk Mary out of the idea but she refused to hear it. She believed that maybe if there _was_ something being buried, then it would feel real to her. That her oldest baby boy was really gone forever.

Sam just sat there in silence, not bothering to stop the tears flowing down his face, as the priest gave the eulogy. Mary and John were both sobbing quietly as Uncle Bobby kept his emotions in check, just staring blankly at the casket. When the eulogy was done, everybody who came was given a white rose to place on the casket before it was lowered into the ground.

Mary and John went first. Mary placed a kiss on the casket as she placed her rose, then John came up, patting the casket with tearful eyes. Then it was Sam’s turn. He just placed a rose on it and immediately stepped out of the way. He knew Dean wasn’t inside there so there was no point in any sort of acknowledgement.

He had to get away from there, so he walked around the cemetery while the last of the service goers paid their final respects. Sam looked left and right to make sure no one was looking, and he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He fished one out, put the rest back in his suitpants pocket. Then he brought out his brother’s favorite Zippo and lit it, inhaling its slightly stale menthol goodness.

Sam looked up towards the sky, “I know you’d be kicking my ass right now for even having these on my person,” he raised the cig up a bit, as if to show Dean in heaven what he meant, then flicked the ashes, bringing it to his lips to take another drag. “but what the fuck, right? My life was over long before we left Lawrence to go to Addison. What’s a bit of lung cancer, huh?” He took another long deep drag, held it in for a good two or three seconds, exhaled the smoke, then dropped the butt on the ground, stomping it out with his foot.

“I hope you blame me for your death, Dean,” Sam said to no one. “Because if you hadn’t come with me, we wouldn’t be burying an empty casket right now.” He let the tears fall some more. “I’d rip my heart out of my chest if it meant taking your place, man. It should’ve been me.” He wiped his eyes. “Maybe if I finally help Y/N, it’ll give you peace.”

And with that, he walked back to his parents, who were the only ones left. Mary embraced her now only son’s side as they watched the casket be lowered into the ground.

* * *

Mary had made dinner that night, but nobody ate at the dinner table. John took his plate into the living room to watch a ball game, Mary ate her dinner in her bedroom while reading a book, and Sam took his plate up to his room to continue his research on demonic possession. But it didn’t get him anywhere as he was basically just rereading what he already knew. Everyone did their own dishes and cleaned up after themselves. Nobody said a word to anyone. And that was how the rest of their week went on.

It wasn’t until Sunday night that John and Mary had decided to sit Sam down and confront him about everything. You, your apparent current mental state, which they hardly believed, and the fact that you had killed Dean. John had already put out an APB on you, a nationwide warrant for the murder of Dean Winchester. Mary still hadn’t returned to work and she was contemplating quitting her job.

“What’s up?” Sam said, sitting down.

“Your mother and I have been talking about everything you told us the night you came home from Addison. Needless to say, we’re concerned.” John began. He seemed to be keeping his cool.

“That bitch killed Dean!” Mary burst out, startling both John and Sam. John sighed, knowing that what calm conversation they were going to have just went out the window. Sam, on the other hand, had anticipated this conversation sooner, and was as ready as he was going to be for it, outbursts or not.

Mary continued to shout. “WHATEVER THE FUCK SHE IS, OUR DEAN IS DEAD BECAUSE OF HER. I DON’T CARE WHAT MENTAL ISSUE SHE HAS, SHE NEEDS TO BE CHARGED WITH DEAN’S DEATH!”

“I’ve already put out a nationwide warrant for Y/N’s arrest, Sam. The jig is up.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Honey, we’re begging you. This woman…she’s dangerous. Look what she did to your brother!”

“I know what she did to Dean, Mom. God, I was TWO FUCKING INCHES AWAY FROM HIM. I GOT BURNED MYSELF!”

“We know, son,” John said, “believe me, we know. But things are getting seriously. Life and death serious.”

“I KNOW!” Sam bellowed out. He was beyond tired of this conversation. The constant reminder that Dean was dead because of him. “I don’t need to be told ten times a day that Dean’s dead because of me.”

“We’re not blaming you,” John said calmly.

“THEN YOU SHOULD!” Sam’s word shocked his parents. Sam took a deep breath. “If Dean hadn’t come with me, he’d still be alive. I asked him for help. I KNOW Y/N can be helped and he offered. But I had no idea she would go that far! I don’t care what anyone else says, and that goes for the two of you too, she CAN BE SAVED! I LOVE HER! AND I **WILL** SAVE HER.” Sam was panting hardcore. His father’s calm demeanor was gone, replaced with rage. Mary’s anger hadn’t subsided ever.

“Okay, that’s it,” John said, standing up and facing Sam as he stood up himself. “We have tried to reason with you, but apparently that isn’t working. So I’m gonna blunt. If you care about us, and care about Dean’s memory, you will stop trying to pursue Y/N. End this madness before more people get hurt, or before you get yourself killed.”

Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. _Dad clearly has had too much to drink tonight,_ Sam thought furiously. “No.”

“What did you say?”

“I said no. What part of ‘I’m going to save her’ did you not get? This has nothing to do with Dean anymore. I need to focus on what to do next and Dean knew damn well what my goal in all this was! Stop using Dean’s death as leverage to get your point across Dad. It’s disrespectful.”

John and Sam were now practically breathing each other’s air they were so close. Nobody said anything for a good solid minute as the men stared each other down. Then John spoke in a quietly dangerous voice. “Then you can focus on that goal somewhere else.”

“What?” Sam said almost in a whisper.

“I want you out of my house by midnight. I cannot fathom what is going through your sick mind right now son, but you basically just chose a psychopathic killer over your family, over your dead brother, THAT SHE KILLED. Until you can get your head straight, you can sleep in your car. Get out of my house!”

Sam just stood there, stunned. He was being kicked out.

* * *

Sam tilted his head slightly to look at his mother, who had remained quiet the whole time, still visibly distraught.

“Mom?” Sam whispered. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“You heard your father.”

Sam looked between the two of them. Then he looked back at his dad and glared at him before going upstairs to pack. He didn’t have a whole lot of suitcases to get all his stuff, so he took the bare essentials and then some. He sure as hell wasn’t sleeping in his car tonight and he still had some money saved up so he decided to hit the Motel 6 about 8 blocks away.

He was loading up his Charger at a slow pace. Considering he didn’t have much and it was only 9:00, he could afford to take his time. As he was dragging the last bag downstairs, Sam stopped at the foot of the staircase. Taking a slow deep breath, he looked back at his parents.

“You know,” he began, “you don’t have to support my choices. You don’t have to like them. I’m an adult and am perfectly capable of making my own mistakes. But this,” he waved his suitcase out so they could see it, “is pretty fucking low. Even for you two. I just want to let you know that…when I walk out this door…you will never see me again. I might die from this. And I don’t care. I love Y/N and I won’t rest or stop until she’s free from this demon. And I know I can do it. Even if you don’t. How does it feel to lose both your children within a week of each other?”

The stunned, hurt look on their faces was the last image of John and Mary Winchester Sam would ever have in his mind.


	22. Permanently Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam spends all of his time researching how to rid someone of demonic possession in Lawrence’s only motel since he was kicked out of his parents’ home. And he gets some unexpected visitors, from up close and afar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, FLUFF, GUILT, FEELINGS AND SHIT
> 
> A/N: Enjoy! There’s a bit that’s from Mary’s POV. Sam’s POV is in the usual bold italics.

Sam made his way to the Motel 6 and check in. He asked for a room and told the attendant to just put it on his card until it was declined as he didn’t know how long he was going to be there. The attendant wasted no time offering him the best room they had available. And Sam had to admit, it was pretty damn nice considering it was just a measly Motel 6.

There was a king sized bed with all the plush pillows he could ever ask for, accompanied with freshly laundered sheets and a decent comforter. The air conditioning unit was brand new, according to the attendant, and it was recently serviced. There was a nice sized desk in the room, as well as a brand new flatscreen TV mounted on the wall, “with 200 cable channels!” the attendant boasted. Sam was starting to wonder if he was being treated like this because of all the money he was about to spend or if they really just didn’t get a whole lot of business. Lawrence wasn’t really a transient town. Most of the people who came through either actually lived there or just drove through to get to either Topeka or Kansas City. Sam left his thoughts on the subject at that and just appreciated that someone was being courteous towards him.

Sam’s mind wandered to the last few hours.

_“how does it feel to lose both your children within a week of each other?”_

He rubbed at his face with his hand. He was regretting his choice of words. He knew that he was angry and said them out of spite, and he now realized it was out of line. He thought about calling his mother and father and apologizing to them. But he also knew that it wouldn’t mean anything. He had no intention of giving up on you. And he knew that if he called them, that’s all they would do. Try to convince him.

He had no intention of that. And his parents were just going to have to accept that as fact.

Sam opened up his laptop after plugging it in. He was impressed at the internet speed in this place. He started by checking his email. A few from some of his buddies at Stanford, his car note payment notification, some junk mail, but one caught his eye.

He opened it and his heart dropped. A very familiar blonde haired girl being embraced by a man who wasn’t much taller than her and in the face of the camera she was showing off a huge diamond ring.

_Sam!_

_I hadn’t heard from you in a while and I just wanted to say hey._

_I heard you got a psych job back in Lawrence. Congratulations! I’m sure you’re kicking all kinds of ass being the best psychologist I always knew you’d be._

_Actually, this was more than just a “hi how are you” email. I wanted to ask you something._

_You were always one of my best friends, even before we started dating. Which is why I wanted to invite you to my wedding. I met a great guy and he asked me to marry him! I know it seems sudden, but I’m completely head over heels for him. You’d really like him. He treats me so right._

_Well if you can make it, it’s gonna be in Klamath Falls, Oregon next month. It would be really nice to see you again._

_I hope this email isn’t too awkward for you and I hope that your life has been filled with happiness in my absence._

_Love always,_

_Jessica Moore (soon-to-be Mrs. Jessica Schneider!)_

Sam had to take a few deep breaths to calm his erratically beating heart. As if everything else is his life wasn’t already crumbled to dust, his ex-girlfriend was getting married to a man that wasn’t him. There was a time where he’d hope to be the guy in that picture, happy and engaged.

He reveled in those jealous thoughts.

_That could’ve been me._

_I could’ve been the one to make her happy._

_I could’ve been the one to spend my hard earned money on an engagement ring._

_I could’ve made her my wife._

_I could’ve given her children._

_That could’ve been me._

_That should’ve been me…_

Sam smacked himself on the forehead. He was being stupid and selfish. Everything he was doing was for a woman who already had his heart. Even if right now she didn’t realize it. You had every square inch of Sam’s heart. He knew it. Every time he felt his heart beat, it was beating for you and you alone.

Which only fueled his desire to get you back and save your life.

Sam knew without a doubt that he would die for you.

* * *

Sam spent the next 4 days researching. He had to rearrange how exactly he searched in order to find something that would help. He already knew everything he could possibly know about demonic possession. He started looking at it from a religious perspective. Every type of religion out there had their own ways of ridding a demon from a person. Some left the person alive, some didn’t. He saved the killing ones as an absolute last resort. He went to the store during his research and bought a leather bound journal to keep notes in. It was a lot easier than carting around his clunky laptop everywhere. And it was durable enough to withstand weather and any scuffles he was likely to encounter. He wrote down all things relevant to his cause and made side notes in the back that didn’t exactly pertain to getting rid of Dragon.

It wasn’t until about 3am on the 5th day that he thought he found exactly what it was looking for.

“The _Rituale Romanum,_ ” Sam said. He read it further, and he liked the information it was providing. He started writing it down as quickly as he could while making sure he could still read his own handwriting.  He then read it out loud to make sure he had the pronunciations right. According to other things he’s read if you pronounce things wrong it can fuck up the spells. He read it out loud over and over and over again. And then read it more until it was well after sun up. He still didn’t have it memorized, but that was going to have to wait as he heard his stomach complain very loudly. Even though there was no one in the room with him, he covered his stomach with his palm in an embarrassed gesture.

He decided to go out for breakfast. He checked his bank account to make sure the motel wasn’t taking advantage of his ‘generosity.’

When he was satisfied with what money he had left, he went to go find the nearest diner. He decided to stay away from the ones he used to frequent as he didn’t want to be seen by anyone who could’ve known him, especially his family.

He sat down at a booth in the back where other smokers were and ordered a cup of coffee. He waited for a server to bring a menu to him and lit a cigarette, keeping the ashtray close by.

“I wasn’t aware you were smoking now.”

 _That voice,_ Sam thought, his heartbeat erratic again. When he looked up, he was met with the same set of hazel eyes he was born with.

“Hi, Mom.”

* * *

Mary couldn’t bear to go back into healthcare after Dean’s death. She knew she would be constantly surrounded by all the things that reminded her of him. So instead of returning back to work at the ICU, she called her now former boss and asked to resign immediately. Nobody dared to question her motives and her old boss told her she would always be welcome back to Douglas County Regional Medical Center should she ever decide to return to being a nurse.

But she also knew that she couldn’t just sit around at home and wallow in her grief. She decided to find a less demanding job. So she applied at the local diner, one that her and John rarely frequented and was hired immediately. She took to working days so she could be home when John left for his graveyard shift.

Today was supposed to be an ordinary day at work for Mary. Serve the people, provide them with what they asked for with a smile, collect the tips and go home. But never in her wildest dreams did she think she’d see Sam here.  She didn’t know whether to be relieved he was still alive or angry that he was still on this stupid quest of his.

“I wasn’t aware you were smoking now,” she said as she laid a menu down in front of her youngest son.

Sam was quick to snuff it out in the ashtray and he looked up at Mary.

“Hi, Mom,” Sam said, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth away from his mother. Mary sat down in front of him. “Do you….do you work here?”

“Times have changed,” Mary said. She grabbed his pack of cigarettes off the table and pulled one out. Sam just gave her a shocked look as she lit it and took a deep drag off of it. She tapped the cig in the ashtray.

“Apparently,” Sam said as he grab another one himself and lit it.

They sat in a rather awkward silence and smoked. When they were both done with their cigarettes, Mary got up from her seat, facing Sam. “If I may, I recommend the breakfast combo. It’s comes with eggs made to order, bacon, toast, sausage and hashbrowns. It’s a good hearty meal to eat no matter the time of day.”

Sam considered it for a moment but then his stomach’s protests betrayed him. Mary just smiled at him.

“Coming right up. I’ll get you some more coffee.”

Sam thought Mary was gonna walk away but then she spoke so softly Sam almost didn’t hear her.

“It’s good to see you again, sweetheart.”

* * *

**_There were a million and one things going through my mind as Mom walked away. She seemed… at peace. Like everything was okay, like…_ **

**_Like she forgave me._ **

**_How the fuck could she? The things I said…the things I did… I knew she was still mad. She probably still blamed me for Dean’s death._ **

**_And she smokes?! When the hell did that start up? Shit, probably around the time I started. Dean was probably shaking his head at the lot of us._ **

**_So much for staying away from family. But why was she here? Working here? My only guess was that she couldn’t face going back to the hospital. Where Dean worked._ **

**_I sympathized, I did. But that didn’t ease my guilt any. Beneath her tired smile and her attempts at being neutral towards me at her place of work, I could see her grief. It weighed on her heart as heavy as a two ton anvil. I knew my mother all too well. We always had a close bond. But I knew that staying away was best for all of us._ **

**_Mom brought me my food and refilled my coffee cup. I looked up at her and smiled. I couldn’t for the life of me say anything to her. My own mother! She seemed to understand. What she did actually say to me was more than I deserved, and definitely less than what she really wanted to say. But I left it at that. I dug into my plate. Damnit this shit was good! Mom was right. I didn’t spare a crumb as I devoured my breakfast. After I finished, satisfied with the contents of my stomach, I was about to pull out my wallet to leave some money to pay, including a very generous tip, when I found a note underneath my plate. I opened it up and read it._ **

_Sam,_

_I paid for your meal, so don’t worry about the check. Consider it my final gift to you._

_Look, there’s a lot of things I probably should say to you, but I think we spoke enough on the elephant in the room back at the house. I’m angry, I’m sad, and I’m hurt beyond words. But… I also understand._

_You’ve always been my wild child. You’ve always done whatever you believe in your heart to be the right things to do. And while your father and I are extremely disappointed in your actions, I can say that I’ve always been proud of you for always standing with your beliefs. If roles were reversed and your father was in Y/N’s situation, I wouldn’t have hesitated to do all I could to save him. But I think that’s the only thing we see eye to eye on._

_Maybe we’ll see each other again. Maybe we won’t. But just so you know, if I never get to hold you or see you again, you are my son. And I will always love you. I pray to God that you come back safe. Or end up safe. Whatever the case may be. Wherever this journey of yours takes you, I know that angels are watching over you._

_I won’t be mad if you don’t leave a tip. It’s your choice._

_-Mom_

**_I couldn’t stop the tears. I let them fall freely. Mom was angry with me yet she still proved that she still loved me. It was relieving. And yet, at the same time, it made me incredibly sad._ **

**_I left a crisp $20 bill on the table for her. It was the least I could do._ **

 

Sam didn’t see it, but as he left the diner, Mary stood around the corner by the swinging kitchen doors and watched as her youngest son left her life for the last time, silently weeping.

* * *

Sam knew it was stupid, but it was the only lead he had. He got back in his car and drove back to the motel. He packed up his stuff and threw it in the backseat of his car. He made his way to the front desk and checked out, graciously thanking them for their generous and, quite frankly, unnecessary hospitality. The attendant went through the usual “thank you for choosing XYZ motel for your accommodations,” yadda yadda yadda. Sam wasn’t paying attention.

He got in his car and started making the eleven and a half hour journey up north back to Addison. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn’t find out that you were long gone until he got there.


	23. Run, Scurry, Flee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disappointed to find you no longer in Addison, Sam decides to hit the road, knowing there’s no point ever going back to Lawrence. While on the road, he discovers there are others like him who hunt the supernatural. Can they possibly help Sam find you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, INJURIES, ABANDONMENT
> 
> Apparently saying "GIFs aren't mine" isn't enough to avoid an abuse claim being filed against you. I've had to remove them all. It's super lame, but whatever. To whomever is reading this series for the first time, please enjoy! The GIFs were just to enhance the reading experience anyway.

Sam was kicking himself for being so stupid. Of course you wouldn’t still be in Addison. You would’ve been long gone by the time word got out that an massacre had erupted, which inevitably led to the town being reduced to ashes. However he’d kept two fingers on the pulse of national news and nothing about Addison was ever mentioned. It was like the town never existed. He suspected Dragon had something to do with that.

But he had bigger things to worry about than that. Sam was still on his hell-bent mission to find you. Any towns decimated in your, Dragon’s, wake…well, that just wasn’t Sam’s problem. He’d deal with it once he actually found you. Which was turning out to be extremely difficult.

Sam decided it was time to lighten his load. He’d packed up literally everything he owned from his parents’ house and hit the road without really thinking about what he brought. So after half a day’s worth of driving due west, he stopped at a small thrift shop in Iowa.

He spent a good hour sorting through all his stuff. There were a lot of sentimental items that he wanted to keep but knew it would only slow him down. Keep him from focusing. Things that reminded him of his past. But he knew he didn’t have to be completely cruel to himself. So he decided to keep Dean’s stethoscope and hang it on the rearview mirror. It even still had his nameplate on it. Sam figured it was a way to keep a piece of his brother with him, and he was still a doctor and believed it might come in handy someday.

Sam must’ve picked the only thrift shop in Iowa because when he walked in the shelves were bare. The old lady behind the counter’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when Sam walked through the front door, the tiny bell attached to it jingling to announce his presence.

Sam was able to sell everything he brought in, and by the way the woman was chatting him up, he was almost tempted to sell them more. He kinda felt sorry for them. It was obvious this shop was a failing business desperate for customers. But he resisted the urge. He sold what he’d originally planned to and walked away, humbly thanking the woman for her business. She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek, and Sam held back the urge to vomit all over her as she reeked of vodka, cigarettes, and stale Funyuns. He took one of her business cards, with the fake promise to spread the word about her shop. He ended up burning it along with all the family photographs he’d kept with him most of his life. It signified the official start of his new life on the road, forever wayward looking for you.

It wasn’t all bad though as she paid him about $500 for all his stuff.

* * *

Continuing his track west, the sun had long set behind the horizon and Sam was starting to get tired. He looked around to see he was driving in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska. Nothing for miles it seemed. Until he saw an old building in the distance. As he drove closer towards it, he noticed a sign on the top. It wasn’t until he got into the parking lot that he saw what it read.

“Harvelle’s Roadhouse, huh?” Sam said to himself. He felt his stomach protest with hunger and realized he hadn’t eaten a whole lot since leaving the thrift shop. So with that, he turned off his car, made sure his possessions were secure, got out and started making his way towards the entrance.

It looked like any other middle-of-nowhere bar. Bunch of tough redneck looking men and women, some sitting at the bar eat and drinking, some were shooting pool or throwing darts at the dartboards on the walls. He made his way to the bar, feeling completely out of place.

The woman behind the counter approached him. She had a kind yet worn face, long brown hair with light hints of silver streaking out made Sam think she was probably younger than his mother, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth made him think she smiled and laughed a lot in her time. It felt…comforting to him.

“What can I getcha, son?” She spoke with an rougher voice than he would’ve imagined.

“Uhh, just a beer and the house special,” Sam replied, feeling like an idiot.

“Well, we don’t really have house specials, but,” the woman pulled out a menu and dusted it off. Sam guessed everyone who came here were usually regulars and didn’t need the menus. But she handed one to Sam with a sympathetic smile. Sam took it with a smile in return and browsed it for a few minutes. But the woman didn’t take her eyes off of him. She studied him curiously.

“I gotta say, I’ve never seen a hunter like you before.” She said

Sam looked up at her with a puzzled look. “Hunter?”

“Yeah. You are a hunter, right?”

“Well, I’ve never really had the time to go out into the wild and hunt my own food,” Sam said nervously. _Why is she asking me about hunting?_ Then he thought about the atmosphere he was in and thought it probably was common for game hunters to frequent this establishment.

The woman gave him a suspicious look. “Not that kind of hunter. Nevermind, forget I asked. I’m Ellen Harvelle, I own this joint, by the way. Nice to meet you.” She extended her hand for Sam to shake, which he did.

“I’m Sam Winchester.” She was walking away from him but he stopped her. “What kind of hunter were you talking about?”

“Well….” Sam could tell that Ellen was determining how much she should tell him, or tell him anything at all. “Demon hunters.”

Sam’s heart stopped for a moment. “ _Demon_ hunters?”

Ellen just nodded, the look of regret starting to etch her face. “There’s a whole world out there that most normal folk don’t even know about. And then there are people out there who fight that world.”

“The supernatural world?” Sam asked, leaning closer towards Ellen.

A smile spread across Ellen’s face. “Well maybe you have heard of it.”

“My brother told me about the supernatural,” Sam said, his face falling. “He, uh…he was helping me with a demon.”

“Was?”

Sam grew quiet with his response. “Yeah….was….”

Ellen’s sympathetic expression softened. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Lotta good people are taken every day by demons and monsters. Most hunters don’t live to be old. Like my husband. My Bill was a hunter. It’s the life and he loved every minute of it. Now my daughter Jo hunts from time to time. She was just a baby when Bill died. It’s her way of being closer to him.”

Sam took in her words, his heart breaking for Ellen. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Nah it’s alright,” Ellen said, waving a hand. “It was a long time ago and I know my Bill is watching over us somewhere out there.” She cleared her throat, as if to hold back her emotions. “So uh, did you still want something to eat, sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam said, looking back at the menu. “I’ll have a veggie burger with chips. And keep the beer coming if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’ll get this right out,” Ellen said, patting Sam on the hand before disappearing behind the swinging kitchen doors.

Sam sat there nursing his beer, going over the past several months’ activities. He was certain by this point that Dragon, while possessing you, was responsible for the Mandrel fire. He mourned for the loss of his colleagues. Susan, Tiffany, the Professor. A whole lot of good people died in that fire. People he was going to miss. Especially Nigel. His wisdom and knowledge was so invaluable to Sam. And he was willing to fight for Sam during his accusations.

Someone speaking to him snapped him out of his thoughts.

“You gotta demon problem?”

Sam turned to his right to see who he assumed was a hunter sitting next to him. He was an older black guy, gray hair shining through dulled black, a goatee with similar features, and an earring dangling from one ear.

“Uh, yeah. You could say that,” Sam replied, taking a sip from his beer glass.

“Name’s Rufus. Rufus Turner.” Rufus extended his hand for Sam to shake, which he did.

“Sam Winchester. Nice to meet you, Rufus.”

“You look a little too clean cut to be a hunter.”

“Well, truth be told, I was a doctor before all this shit happened.”

“A doctor?” Rufus said. Sam could see Rufus sizing him up, but not in a bad way. Rufus smiled and slapped Sam on the back in a gesture of gratitude. It didn’t stop Sam from grimacing though. “Not bad,” Rufus continued. “So what do you know about this demon?”

“Well,” Sam began, taking a deep breath and setting his now empty glass down on the coaster in front of him. “The demon calls himself Dragon. My girlfriend told me this.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Well, she was originally my patient. She was a psych patient at the Mandrel Institute for Behavioral Health and Wellness in Lawrence, Kansas. My hometown.” Sam went through all the events that led him to his current seat. He left no details out. As much as he felt nervous about telling a complete stranger about his whole life story, he knew he needed help finding you. Anyone willing to offer that help was more valuable to Sam than his own life.

After Sam was done explaining everything, Rufus sat there for a moment, taking in all the info and rubbing his bearded chin.

“Wow that’s quite a pickle you and Y/N are in,” Rufus said. “But I may be able to help. If you’re willing.”

“At this point, I’ll do anything to find her. She’s in incredible danger, and I believe she can be saved. I did some research on the matter.” Sam pulled out his journal and showed Rufus the exorcism.

“Ahh yes. I know that one very well. It’s a staple among demon hunters. Very effective too.”

“You think it would work on Y/N?” Sam asked.

“It may, but you gotta make sure she’s synched down nice and tight.”

Rufus in turn showed Sam everything he did when it came to a simple demon exorcism. Everything from salt shotgun rounds to the Key of Solomon and a plain Devil’s Trap, Sam was really impressed. He didn’t think of anything like this and was thankful for Rufus’ insightfulness.

“So with that all being said,” Rufus said just as Sam’s food was coming for him. Ellen placed his plate in front of him along with a fresh glass of beer. Sam dug in immediately. “What are you thinking, Sam?”

“Pretty impressive shit, huh,” Ellen said, looking over all the notes and books spread across her bar top.

“Yeah,” Sam said as he swallowed. “It will definitely help me out. My current issue is finding Y/N first. With Dragon at the wheel, she won’t be easy to find.” Sam took another bite of his burger. He was surprised how good it was. He didn’t think a place like this would have any remotely vegetarian. But he kept that thought to himself.

“I can put out an APB on Y/N,” Rufus said.

“She’s already got one out on her through the FBI. My dad’s a cop.”

“Then it shouldn’t be much harder than that. I assume they have a photo of her so we know who to look for?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, finishing his meal off by popping the last of his chips into his mouth.

“Well, sweetie,” Ellen said as she took Sam’s plate away from him. He laid a couple bills on the table to pay for it. “We gotta couple of rooms out back if you need a place to stay. I can cut you a good rate.”

“That would be great, Ellen, thank you.” Sam said. “Put me down a for a week to start with,” he pulled more bills out of his wallet and waited for Ellen to tell him the price. When she did he was surprised how affordable it was. He was certain that these accommodations wouldn’t be as nice as the last ones, but he wasn’t going to complain. He could deal with less than perfect sleeping arrangements if it meant he at least had a bed to sleep in when he wasn’t working. He couldn’t exactly fit in the backseat of his Charger otherwise he’d just sleep on the road.

Ellen led him to a back room that had a set of stairs. Those led to an attic that had been converted into a bedroom. It was small, and Sam had to crouch to walk around given how tall he was, but it was nice.

* * *

 

 _You woke up in a distance place, laying on the ground in the middle of the night, but it appeared you were in a city. A big one. Lots of palm trees._ Where the hell am I? _you thought, confused. You tried to get up, but winced at unexpected pain. You looked down and saw a multitude of injuries upon your person. Cuts and bruises, and you had no idea how you got them._

_“Dragon?”_

_Silence._

_“Dragon?!”_

_Still silence._

_You were suddenly frightened._

“DRAGOOOOOONNN!!!!!”

_You blacked out again, not knowing it would be days before anyone found you and brought your near lifeless form to a nearby hospital. And you wouldn’t know that you’d wake up over a week later, knowing absolutely nothing at all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this is all I've written up to this point. As soon as I write new chapters, I'll be posting them on Tumblr, then they'll find their way here. No set posting schedule though, I don't have the patience for such frivolity. Thanks to everyone who has left kudos! I started posting this after spending all night trying to fall asleep. I'm hoping to have Chapter 24 posted sometime today (provided my kids keep being the angels they've been all morning!)


	24. A New Kind of Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on his quest to find you, Sam does what he can to help others along the way, earning him a unique title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished this one! Huzzah!

Sam was leaving a warehouse in southern Nebraska, closing his journal and quickly making his way back to his Charger as the sound of approaching emergency service vehicles got closer.

Sam acknowledged that he was getting really good at this whole exorcising thing. He’d mastered the pronunciation of the spells perfectly and luring demons to trap them was also becoming a breeze. And his techniques were allowing more and more innocent people being possessed to live rather than die. He’d taken the lessons that Rufus and Ellen as well as other hunters at the Roadhouse to heart, but didn’t really think it necessary for the “meatsuits” they were using to die along with them.

So he traveled the country, picking up cases that smelled of demonic possession. Sam followed the same routine every time. He found something in the newspaper, either in paper form or online, he’d make the drive out there, finding the shabbiest motel the town of the week had to offer, booked a room for a few days to a week depending on how long Sam thought the job would take, spend the first two days researching the case as well as dressing up as FBI to interview witnesses. Then he would go in to the demon’s last known location and scope it out. Sometimes he would find the demon in its lair, sometimes he would have to dig a big deeper, set a trap. More times than not, painting a devil’s trap above the entrance normally did the trick. Then he would tie it up to a chair and interrogate the demon.

It was far cry from his life before the Mandrel fire. Get up each morning at 6am, shower and dress, maybe make breakfast for his mother if he had time. Drive to the hospital, have his vital signs checked by Susan before making his morning rounds, then it was time for lunch and he normally just ate with Nigel in his office. The man was such great company and a walking talking fountain of knowledge. Then in the afternoons he would help run group therapy sessions. Occasionally he would be the one leading it. Then in the evenings he would make his way to your room and have your usual one on one session. He decided that since he was getting so close to you, he wanted to make sure he could take the time necessary to focus on your case uninterrupted, and by the evening hours all of his colleagues had gone home for the day. Life was a lot more simple back then than he originally gave it credit for. Sam was also secretly thankful he put so much money into the 401K Mandrel provided all of its doctors. Even though Sam was terminated and company policy said he was to forfeit his savings, Nigel managed to pull some strings to ensure he got what he’d paid into. Which was currently helping him a lot as it was the only money he had that funded his conquest.

But that’s what kept him going. Kept him fighting, kept him demon hunting. Eventually, he was going to find you and this almost yearlong nightmare would end.

Speaking of you, the last demon that Sam manage to capture couldn’t get you off his mind.

“I know where she is,” it hissed.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?” He didn’t want to give out too much information. Better to let the demon talk too much.

“Don’t play dumb, you stupid human. Every one of our kind knows about Dragon’s little whore Y/N. She’s the talk of the underworld. Course, every broken slut he takes on ends up being talked about.”

“And why should I believe you, you disgusting fuck?” Sam spat back, breathing hard. _How dare this fucker talk about Y/N like that,_ he thought angrily.

“You shouldn’t. Never ever trust a demon, especially one you’ve fucked once or twice,” it said with a sinister laugh.

Sam had enough. He whipped out his journal and began the incantation.

_“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-”_

“You’ll never find her,”

This only makes Sam more angry. _“omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,”_

The demon starts to spasm in its seat. But it continues taunting Sam. “Dragon has her wrapped all around his dick.”

_“omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”_

 

The demon screams some more while thrashing about. “Even if you send me back to hell, she’s already dead. Nobody survives Dragon’s wraith. NOBODY! Why do you think every single one of us always obeys him without question?!”

Sam yelled out the rest of the incantation. It was the only thing keeping him from slashing the asshole of a demon’s throat.

 

_“ERGO, DRACO MALEDICTE._

_ECCLESIAM TUAM SECURI TIBI  FACIAS LIBERTATE SERVIRE,_

_TE ROGAMOS, **AUDI NOS!** ”_

 

And with those last words of Latin, the poor man being possessed yelled out in pain as the demon’s essence was expelled from his mouth, sending the black smoke shooting around all corners of the dingy room and up an air vent on the ceiling. For a good two or three minutes the man was limp in the chair, but Sam didn’t untie him. He checked to make sure the man still had a pulse. Then the man started coughing, waking from his internal semi-coma.

 

“T-thank you, sir,” the man spoke as Sam started untying him.

 

“Ssh it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay, man. What’s your name?” Sam asked quietly.

 

“Marcus.”

 

“I’m Sam, Marcus. Are you hurt at all?”

 

Sam finished untying Marcus completely and helped him stand up. Marcus quavered a bit then stabilized. “No, I think I’m okay.”

 

“Okay, good, let’s get you out of here. Do you live far? We’re in, uh, Alpine Wyoming.”

 

“No, I live here. I’d appreciate a ride. I don’t have much money but I can spare you some for your tank.”

 

Sam thanked him but shrugged the offer, insisting it wasn’t necessary, and led Marcus back to his car and opened the passenger side door for him. Marcus didn’t object and wrote down his address and Sam programmed into his GPS that was mounted on his dashboard. Along the way, Sam explained everything that had happened to Marcus and made sure that he understood.

 

“I remember most of it, when that demon was inside me,” Marcus said, taking sips of water from the water bottle Sam gave him. He was also nibbling on some peanut butter crackers that Sam keeps in his car. He normally reserved them for himself as road food, but he recognized that possession victims tend to be low on energy and it can be a great pick me up. They weren’t expensive so Sam didn’t mind sharing. “It was rough watching me killed those people. I know it wasn’t really me, but it kind of was.”

 

“It’s okay,” Sam said as he drove along the deserted two lane highway. He was admiring the view while listening to Marcus talk. He would have to come back one day and sightsee. He just hoped next time he’d have you by his side. “It’s understandable to feel that way.”

 

Marcus swallowed the rest of the crackers and washed it down with more water before speaking again. “Um, it was telling the truth, about this Dragon fellow.”

 

Sam almost slammed on the brakes at the mention of Dragon. But he slowly veered towards the shoulder so he could concentrate. “What did he say? Marcus it’s important.”

 

“Not too much, I’m afraid,” Marcus said. “But apparently there is a lot of talk about Dragon among their kind. They kept talking very rudely and promiscuously about this Y/N lady. If she’s your lady friend, I won’t repeat any of it.”

 

“You have no idea how much I appreciate that,” Sam said with a light chuckle. “Did the demon happen to mention where she might be?”

 

Marcus paused to try and remember. Sam let him take all the time he needed. “Nowhere specific. But it did keep saying, ‘’where the Winchester’s past lies fruitful.’ I’m sorry but that’s all I got.”

 

Sam took in his words, then took a deep breath. He pulled the Charger back onto the road and continued driving in silence. When they reached the address that Marcus had given him, Sam let him out and thanked him for the information. Marcus laughed at him wondering ‘why the hell the hero was thanking him?!’ But Marcus shook Sam’s hand and headed back inside his home. Sam stayed and watched him go inside. But he didn’t leave until he saw Marcus finish salting all his windows.

 

Driving back to the motel, he poured over Marcus’ words.

 

“Where my past lies fruitful,” Sam said out loud. “What the fuck does that mean? Most of my past remains in Lawrence.”

 

Then it hit him. _Most._

 

“Son of a bitch.”

 

Could it really be that simple? Nah, it was never that simple with you and Dragon. But it was the only thing Sam had. So he made his way back to the motel to pack up all his shit. He needed to go back to Nebraska.

 

To the Roadhouse.

* * *

 

Word was spreading quickly around the hunting community about Sam and the cases he was solving. It appeared he had the highest track record of people surviving demonic possessions. Hunters nationwide were attributing it to his chosen career path as a doctor. So much so that they were calling Sam “Dr. DH” short of Doctor Demon Hunter. Sam had to laugh when he first heard the rumors. But then he realized that it had a nice ring to it, so he rolled with it.

He walked through the doors of the Roadhouse not expecting the wide range greeting he received.

“Hey, Doc!”

“It’s Dr. DH!”

“Sup, DH!”

“Doc DH in the HOUSE!”

Sam was slightly embarrassed to draw so much attention to himself, but was also proud. For once he was making a name for himself. It was nice that none of these hunters knew him as the ‘doctor who had sex with his patient.’ Even if they did, Sam doubted they would judge him. He waved and high fived some of the bar patrons. Ellen came from around the bar top to give Sam a big hug.

“Hey sweetie, how are you? Usual?”

Sam kissed her on the cheek. “That’d be great Ellen, thanks. I’m doing good.” Sam was smiling ear to ear, his dimples showing their full splendor as he sat down in front of Ellen as she poured him a drink from the tap.

“So how many survivors does that make for you, Sam?” Ellen asked as she placed his mug on the wooden coaster in front of him.

“Honestly, I’ve lost count,” Sam chuckled, taking a sip of his beer.

“27,” came a voice from the other side of the bar. Ellen and Sam both looked in that direction. And Sam almost laughed out loud at the appearance of the voice’s owner.

He was a lanky man with a dirty blonde mullet, a biker vest on with no shirt underneath and dirty denim jeans. They were so cut up, used and abused, that Sam couldn’t tell if the man was wearing shoes or not.

“Ash, c’mon now, don’t scare the poor kid with that big ass brain of yours before you introduce yourself,” Ellen surmised, not leaving her place.

“Hey gotta break em in early nowadays, mama,” the character named Ash proclaimed, walking towards Sam, extending his hand. “Name’s Ash. Dr. Badass, genius, hunting guru extraordinaire. You’ve been making quite a name for yourself, DH.”

Sam took his hand and shook it. “Pleasure, Ash. Err, did you say 27?”

“Yes sir, o prestigious Doctor of Demon Hunting, yes indeed. In the three months since you were last here, I’ve kept a track record of your cases and you’ve managed to send a whopping 27 previously possessed victims home to their loved ones.”

“But,” Sam began, “I’ve been all over the country. How have you managed to keep track of them all?”

Ash gave Ellen a suggestive look. Ellen just rolled her eyes at his cockiness. “I have my ways,” Ash divulged.

Sam just shrugged and moved on. He looked back at Ellen, but not before telling Ash he liked his hair cut.

“All business up front,” Ash responded by running a hair through the front then flipping the long straight mop behind it, “party in the back.” He sat down across from Sam and Ellen, eager to hear what Sam had to say. It should’ve made Sam feel uncomfortable, but after all the time he spent at Mandrel, personal space was something he didn’t really concern himself with anymore.

“So,” Sam began, “this last guy that I exorcised he gave me some information about Y/N.”

“No shit,” Ellen said, “I’m guessing it’s useful?”

“And credible?” Ash chimed in.

“I had to reason to suspect he was lying,” Sam said. “I mean, from what I’ve seen with demonic possessions, its victims retain some of their memories and consciousness. I’m fairly certain he was telling the truth. Fortunately this guy wasn’t injured at all. In fact, he’s the first. All other vics are torn apart from the inside out.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Ellen said, refilling his beer.

“Actually, if I could get a glass of water Ellen, that’d be great,” Sam said with an apologetic smile.

“You got it sweetie.”

Sam turned to Ash. “His name was Marcus, and Marcus told me that the demon said that Y/N is where my past lies fruitful. I didn’t know what that meant at first, but after I got to thinking, there’s only one other place I’ve been other than Lawrence. And that’s Stanford.”

“The Great Palo Alto,” Ash said, running off and disappearing to the back. When he reappeared, he had this electronic mess of a contraption. Sam eyed it curiously. After studying it, he recognized it as a homemade laptop. Sam was impressed. _Maybe this guy is as smart as he claims to be,_ he thought.

“Can you give me a description of Y/N?”

“I can do better than that,” Sam said, and he pulled out his wallet and handed Ash a small photo of you. It was his favorite that he’d taken of you with his cell phone and printed it out to keep with him at all times. You weren’t wearing anything but your usual Mandrel issued clothing and you weren’t wearing any makeup, but you radiated with such a glow of happiness that Sam was certain you hadn’t seen in a long time and he couldn’t resist taking a picture. You’d made him swear to keep it to himself as you were embarrassed at how hideous you looked, but he thought you were the most beautiful creation ever. He’d kept his word, until you disappeared though.

“Wow she’s a real looker,” Ash whistled.

“You have no idea,” Sam breathed, completely engrossed in the picture.

Ash took the photo and clipped it to the side of his laptop, snapping Sam out of his trance. He did some crazy typing on his laptop and then hit enter. Sam peered behind Ash to see what he was working on. His computer screen looked like something straight out of the Matrix but he believed it was doing its job.

After a few minutes the laptop dinged. When Sam looked at the computer, he could feel his his heartbeat stop.

You were almost completely unrecognizable, but you looked unharmed.

“I know you said her name was Y/N Y/L/N, but out here she goes by Rhenawedd Parker, Rhen for short. Works at a local coffee shop close to the main campus. Apparently nobody knows anything about her past and they hired her without any trouble.”

Sam breathed a sigh of relief once he felt his heart was still kicking hard against his ribcage.

But it also scared the shit out of him. What the fuck did Dragon do to get you to Palo Alto?


	25. Stanford

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the lead Ash gave him takes Sam back to Palo Alto, allowing him to reminisce about his college days. But will he find what he’s looking for when he finally catches up to you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: FLUFF, ANGST, IMPLIED SMUTTY FLASHBACKS
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's left kudos!! I love you all ^_^
> 
> A/N: So some of this chapter has flashbacks of Sam’s time at Stanford, which are in bold italics. Enjoy! Thanks for reading as always!

The drive from Nebraska to California felt like an eternity to Sam despite the GPS telling him it would take 23 hours to get there. A normal person would feel like 23 hours _was_ an eternity, but Sam had done longer drives before.

 

The drive did give lots for Sam to ponder about. He was going back to Stanford to find you. Of all the places he thought you might be, he never imagined Palo Alto to be it. He knew that you’d changed your name. What else did you change? Did you cut your hair? Dye it? Maybe you were wearing some kind of colored contacts to change your eye color? Sam couldn’t imagine why. Your Y/E/C eyes were the most beautiful he’d ever seen. Did a family take you in or were you alone? And where did Dragon come into all this? Was this all part of whatever fucking plan he had for you or was he leaving you alone? Sam severely doubted the latter, but he did hope. Hope was kind of the whole point, wasn’t it?

 

So many questions, and none would be answered until he got there. He was halfway through his journey when Sam noticed it was 2am and he was nodding off. So he stopped at a motel for the night so he could rest, maybe catch a shower.

 

He stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist, hair still dripping slightly from cleaning up, but he felt a bit better. Sam was almost tempted to get back on the road, but he thought better of it. He walked over to his overnight bag and fished out a pair of boxers and slipped them over his hips. He started searching for a shirt to sleep in when he pulled out an article of clothing he’d honestly forgotten he had.

 

His old Stanford hoodie. His mind wandered…

 

**_“Jess?” Sam called out as he walked in the door of the on campus apartment he shared with his girlfriend, Jessica Moore. “Are you home?”_ **

 

**_“In here, babe!”_ **

 

**_Sam made his way towards their bedroom and found her nose deep in what appeared to be homework, medical textbooks and papers spread all across the bed with her bright pink laptop the focal point. She looked up at him and smiled. He smirked at what she was wearing._ **

 

**_“You know, if you want my Stanford hoodie, all you have to do is ask. I’ll give it you,” Sam mused._ **

 

**_“But then it wouldn’t be so special to wear!” She smiled. Sam took in the sight of his lovely blonde haired blue eyed college sweetheart. She was wearing his hoodie, which was way too big for her, and a pair of bright blue laced panties. Her long, tan legs were crossed with her feet tucked underneath that perky ass Sam liked to grab so much. She was a sight for sore eyes in his opinion and if she wasn’t doing major homework, he’d take her against the wall and have his way with her._ **

 

**_You know, if he was a dominating raping douchebag._ **

 

**_“What makes it so special?” Sam asked, approaching the bed. He sat on the edge carefully so as not to disturb her work, but she made it easier by moving her papers out of the way._ **

 

**_“Well it’s big and cozy, warm and soft, and it smells like you,” Jess said, looking Sam in the eyes._ **

 

**_Sam laughed. “That means it probably stinks.”_ **

 

**_Jess laughed in return. “No it doesn’t!” She punched him in the arm with playful intent.  “It smells like your cologne.”_ **

 

**_That made Sam laugh even harder. “Oh shit, then give it to me so I can wash it!” Sam made a jab for the sweatshirt Jess was wearing but she giggled and leaped up off the bed, making Sam chase her all around the apartment until they were both out of breath. Jess collapsed in Sam’s arms, unable to stop her fits of laughter. Sam held onto her like his life depended on it, letting her listen to the pounding of his heart as she lay her head on his chest._ **

 

**_“I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to send a bunch of 5 year olds to college,” he finally breathed, making Jess laugh even more._ **

 

Sam went to bed that night, happy at the good memories, but more determined than ever to find you so he could start making happy memories with you.

 

\---

 

The next morning, Sam barely remembered getting out the door. He sort of remembered grabbing a bran muffin and bottle of orange juice before bolting out the door, but the rest was a blur. He was on the road two hours before sunrise. _I guess my mind is just so wrapped up in you, Y/N,_ he thought as he drove way beyond the allotted speed limit.

 

_I’m comin for you, baby. I’m gonna bring you home with me._

 

After about 7 hours of driving, he noticed the Charger was low on gas and pulled into the nearest gas station. It was an older place with pumps that required payment inside, so he went in and gave the attendant a 20 before heading back out. As he was fueling his car, he looked around and spotted something. A group of 3 kids were screwing around with a kid that was clearly smaller than they and accustomed to being picked on. Sam finished fueling, put the pump back on its dock, and started walking towards the group of degenerates. But he only got two small steps in when another kid walked over and shouted at the bullies. When they walked away, the kid bent down and wiped the smaller kid’s apparent tears, looking like he was offering words of encouragement. Sam stopped and took in the sight, and his mind wandered…

 

**_The classroom was out of control. Who knew Stanford took in such delinquents? Well, that’s what Sam thought and smartly kept to himself. But it was obvious the teacher had no idea how to teach and wrangle a class of loudmouth no-fucks-given students. And Sam had had enough._ **

****

**_Sam didn’t even remember what exactly he did or said, but even though the rowdy students gave him shit for standing up to them, the teacher was very grateful._ **

****

**_“Look, Professor, I know it’s not my job to keep these asshats in line, but I’m here on a full ride and I’m not going to fail on Stanford’s dime because those whose parents paid for their attempts at a college education don’t care.”_ **

****

**_“I admire your determination, Mr. Winchester,” his teacher replied, his facial expression unreadable. “And I apologize for not taking control of the situation myself. I will have to do better in the future. If you end up slipping behind because of them, I won’t count it against you.”_ **

****

**_“No don’t do that,” Sam said. “If I slip up, it won’t be because of them. It’ll be because I didn’t do my part to pass the class. And I already have a handle on getting good grades, stupid classmates or no.”_ **

****

**_Sam’s professor ended up going to his superior about the rowdy students and they were eventually removed from his class. Sam was able to focus on the day’s lessons in peace now. At first he felt bad for getting his classmates kicked out, but he remembered what he told the teacher. They brought it on themselves._ **

 

Back on the road again, Sam decided he’d let his mind wander enough. He turned on an audiobook Dean had gotten him for his birthday last year and restarted it from the beginning.

 

By the time the audiobook finished, he was driving into the City of San Jose city limits, which meant Sam was about a half hour from Stanford. The closest thing he had to a home away from home.

 

\---

 

“That’ll be 5.46, Miriam.”

 

Miriam handed you a 5 and a 1, and you broke her change. She smiled when you handed it back with a receipt. “Thanks, Rhenawedd. It’s so good to see a fresh face here at my favorite coffee shop. And you always get my order right! It’s like you already have it memorized!”

 

“Ah, you’re too kind, hon,” you said as you stuck her drink order in the ticket window. “Order up, Marv! Double expresso nonfat latte to go!”

 

“You got it princess!” Marv called from the back. You blushed as he turned around and winked at you. You always loved it when he called you princess, though you’d never dare tell him directly.

 

“It should be out in a few minutes. Can I interest you in one of our new orange blueberry scones? Baked fresh this morning,” you said with a smile.

 

“No thanks, darling. I’m kinda in a hurry. I-uh…I’m meeting someone.” Miriam said with her own blush to accompany her words.

 

You got excited and leaned over the counter to talk one on one with Miriam. “Shut up! It’s Derek, isn’t it? Go on! Spill the beans, girlfriend!”

 

Miriam leaned over the counter and smiled at you. “He finally asked me out!”

 

The two of you squealed in excitement! “Get out! Damn girl I knew it was a matter of time! He was licking you with his eye balls every time he was in here!” You could barely contain your excitement for your friend.

 

“I know right? I honestly was surprised he did it at all! I didn’t think he was all that interested in me.” Miriam looked down as she spoke.

 

“Oh, c’mon chica. You’re super attractive and could have any guy you want! Luckily only the real lookers go for you,” you winked at her and you both giggled in excitement again.

 

“Double expresso nonfat latte for Miriam in the window, doll!” Marv called out from the window. You turned around to grab it and Marv looked you in the eyes. “You doing okay, Rhen?”

 

You smiled at him. “Yeah, I’m good today, hon. Why do you ask?” You put a carboard cup protector over Miriam’s drink, then turned around to hand it to her. “Good luck babygirl! I love you!” you called out to her as she was leaving.

 

“I love you more!” Miriam called back as she was pushing the door open. “I promise to text you the 411 later!”

 

“I’ll hold you to it!” you called back, then turned your attention back to Marv.

 

“I know you’ve had it rough since coming here,” Marv said, nothing but care and concern in his tone of voice. “You’ve got family here at this coffee shop. If you ever need anything, please,” he reached out and placed his hand on top of hers. His hand felt warm, and it was almost a familiar feeling. One you couldn’t quite place. “don’t hesitate to ask.”

 

“I promise I won’t Marv. But I’m doing good today. Thanks,” you said as you squeezed his hand back. He smiled a toothy grin, another thing that seemed familiar to you. “You’re the best, Marv, you know that?”

 

“I have people like you who make me great,” Marv said before turning back to washing cups and plates.

 

\---

 

_“Good, good. You’re finally settling down. Things are coming right along.”_

_Dragon was nestled in the small corner of your mind that kept him out of sight and out of your thoughts. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t listening. He could hear everything from the inside out. And it was easy to pick up on how you were feeling based on outer interactions._

_“That Marv guy…” Dragon pondered. “Y/N tends to get a sense of familiarity when she interacts with him.”_

_Then he heard it. The sound of your heartbeat speeding up when Marv touched your hand. It made Dragon itch in the wrong way. Then that sense of familiarity flooded his senses along with your own. And it made him very…uncomfortable._

_“No.”_

_He worked quickly. He got up from his seat and then realized he didn’t need to. He chuckled a bit then sat back down. “I keep forgetting I can do all my work from this very comfy seat.” Laughing, he took a deep breath and chanted._

You didn’t remember what happened before you passed out. But when you came to, you were in Marv’s arms, and surrounded by concerned shop patrons. You tried to get up but Marv stopped. You looked around to see what looked like a paramedic taking your pulse. The paramedic’s partner was assembling a blood pressure cuff around your arm.

 

“Take it easy, love. You’re alright. I got you.”

 

“M-Marv? What happened?”

 

“I don’t know sweetie, but you took a hard hit when you collapsed. I’m sorry I didn’t catch you in time. Thank God these paramedics were in here getting coffee when you went down. They didn’t hesitate to help.”

 

“Her pulse is thready. She really should be taken to the hospital to be checked out. Do you have any medical problems, hon?” the female paramedic said to you, but you weren’t paying attention.

 

“Rhenawedd, you really oughta go get checked out. You could’ve done some damage in your fall.”

“No no it’s okay, I’m okay. I’ll be fine,” you assured Marv and the medics.

 

Marv nodded at them. “I’ll make sure she gets home alright.”

 

“Good because she really shouldn’t be driving. At least for tonight. But her vital signs are good and strong.”

 

“That’s good! That’s real good,” Marv breathed with relief. He looked back down at you and helped you sit up on your own. You wavered a bit willing the dizziness to pass. “Let me take you home.”

 

“But I need to work, Marv! I need this job! I can barely make rent!” You were panicking, the thought of being homeless scaring you.

 

“Like I said, I’m always here to help. If you need a spot for rent I can help. But we all need you well here. It doesn’t do any of us any good if you’re out of commission,” Marv leaned over and kissed your forehead. Not in a romantic way, but in a protective way. You felt that same rush of familiarity again. When the face that it reminded you of surfaced in your mind, your eyes rolled in the back of your head and everything went black.

 

\---

 

Sam was rolling through Palo Alto, the rush of everything he once knew coming back to his senses. The feel, the smells, the sights of California made those moments of reminiscing harder to resist. He was looking at his phone at the address he was trying to find. He knows exactly where it is as it’s the coffee shop he met Jess at, but he wanted to be sure this wasn’t all a dream. It was no coincidence that you were here. Sam knew Dragon was still behind the wheel in your subconscious.

 

This was all a trap. Sam knew it. But he had to keep going. He had to find you. Come whatever.

 

**_“So I’m guessing this wasn’t what you had in mind for a first date, huh?” Sam shifted in his seat nervously, keeping his hands cupped around the cardboard coffee cup not really for warmth, but because he was nervous. Jessica was sitting across from him, awkwardly looking around at her surroundings. The Simple Ingredients Coffee Shop just outside campus was where Sam had first met Jess and at the time, he thought it would be the perfect place for their first date. They both had a major exam coming up for their respected study fields so they were both gonna be cramming hardcore so he figured a few rounds of Joe wouldn’t hurt. But Jess looked like she’d rather be somewhere else. But she shrugged it off. She didn’t want to appear ungrateful._ **

****

**_“No no, this is perfect!” Jess said with that smile that always made Sam’s heart melt. “I need the coffee anyway.”_ **

****

**_“You’re stuck with a major cram sesh too, huh,” Sam chuckled, sipping his coffee. They always made it perfect no matter what he asked for. It was why he kept coming back here._ **

****

**_“Yeah, I mean, on top of all my other assignments that seem to be due simultaneously, now I’ve got a major Pharmacology exam in two days. And I’m_ ** **so _not prepared.”_**

****

**_“I know what you mean,” Sam replied. “I got a term paper on Modern Molecular Biology due on Tuesday and I haven’t even started it yet._ ** **_”_ **

****

**_“Ugh then what are you doing here?” Jess teased. “You should be at your place writing!”_ **

****

**_“I’ll get to it. I’ve come too far now to fail out on something that isn’t all that hard. It’s just…cumbersome. Lot to take it and write about. The writing part isn’t all that hard.”_ **

****

**_“Still you shouldn’t take it for granted. Full ride students are typically held to a higher standard here.”_ **

****

**_“I know,” Sam said softly, putting his coffee cup down and looking Jess square in the eyes, “I had other priorities that needed to be seen to first.”_ **

****

**_Sam was hoping his attempts at flirting were working, as he wasn’t really good at it. Not that that’s saying much. He’d never been experienced in that department. He’d taken a couple girls out while in high school and took another to prom because she didn’t have a date, but they were all one time things. Jessica…was special. She was someone that Sam could see eventually marrying, settling down, having a family with. A nurse and a doctor would make quite the dream team._ **

****

Sam shook those thoughts from his mind as he pulled up in front of the old coffee shop. It still looked the same as it did years back. He got out of his car and made his way towards the front. He didn’t recognize anybody who worked there. That felt like good news to him. Nobody would recognize him and he wouldn’t have to go into the painful remnants of what had happened to him after he graduated.

 

Half the time he didn’t want to remember himself.

 

He walked up to the front counter. A man who looked like he was Dean’s age was behind the register adding change to it looked up at him and smiled.

 

“Welcome to Simple Ingredients Coffee Shop, what can we get started for you?”

“Hi, I’m actually looking for someone,” Sam said as she started pulling his wallet out from his back pocket. He pulled out your picture and showed it to the man. “I have information that this woman works here. Do you recognize her?”

 

The man’s features softened. “Yeah, that’s Rhenawedd. Rhenawedd Parker. She’s a cashier here. Very sweet girl.”

 

Sam decided to play dumb. “Rhenawedd?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“That can’t be right,” Sam frowned. He decided to act on a whim, hoping it would help his case. He just hoped it didn’t come back to bite him in the ass later. “Her name is Y/N. Y/N Winchester. She’s my wife.”

 

The man gave him a somber look. “Rhenawedd never mentioned being married. She doesn’t wear a ring.”

 

“She took it off before she went missing. I’ve been looking for her for months.”

 

“Rhen said she’s from Lawrence, Kansas. That true?”

 

“Yes!” Sam exclaimed. Maybe this was working out. “Yes, we grew up in the same town. My name is Sam Winchester. Please if you know where she is, you gotta help me out.”

 

The man took a breath before extending his hand out. “Marvin Zabel. Everyone calls me Marv. Rhenny included. Nice to meet you Sam.” Sam shook his hand. “And I’m sorry you have to find out like this.”

 

Sam’s heart stopped. “Find out what?” He held his breath. _Oh God please don’t…._

 

“She was at work the other day, everything was fine and dandy, when out of nowhere she collapsed. Hit her head on the way down. When she came to, I begged her to go get checked out, but she insisted she was fine. I was willing to let it go, until she passed out in my arms again. Paramedics were already here and I let them take her to the hospital. I got a call last night saying they admitted her. She’s… she’s not well, man.”

 

Sam breathed out the breath he was holding in. You were alive. That was a start.

 

“Dude, you have no idea.”


	26. In There Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has to figure out how to break you from your memory crisis, knowing that Dragon is still in control. How will he do it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely forgot I had this on my AOx3 account. Oops. The series is complete and I will be adding all the chapters tonight. Buckle up, y'all. This chapter in particular is also shorter than I had originally anticipated. 
> 
> WARNING: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, HOSPITAL STUFF.

Sam was sitting at your bedside as you lay unconscious in the hospital. When he first found you, what was left of his heart shattered. Seeing you in an actual hospital was a far cry from seeing you day to day at Mandrel. You weren’t completely well mentally speaking, but you were you. You smiled, you laughed, you made playful banter, even though you had a demon controlling you sometimes. You were definitely not well, judging by the darkened bags under your eyes alone. He’d studied your monitors and made sure all the equipment hooked up to you was as it should be, and that it was necessary. When that satisfied him, he just sat there, watching your heart rate on the monitor. Your blood pressure was low as were your oxygen levels, but you had a nasal cannula applied to your nose for that so he didn’t worry so much. Looking at the bags of fluids slowly dripping into your veins through your IV, it appeared they were only keeping you hydrated and not administering any medications. It would also eventually help bring your blood pressure back up to within normal limits so that was another thing Sam didn’t worry about.

After months of searching, Sam finally found you. He found you and you were alive. But were you really there?

“Y/N?” Sam called out in a soft voice. He reached for your hand and held it. He wanted to cry. Your hands were so cold. His instinct told him to put gloves or mittens on you but he knew that wouldn’t help. Plus he had neither. “C’mon babe, I know you’re in there somewhere. Please. Please wake up. I… I need you.”

_Dragon was seething, even though it was futile. Dragon knew Sam Winchester would eventually find you. He was like a cockroach; persistent to survive and conquer despite all odds. Dragon was frantically trying to come up with a plan to get rid of Sam by your hand, but then he stopped himself and thought about it. Thought about it really hard._

_“Guess you’ll just have to stay under a bit longer than planned until I can figure out what to do with Doctor Boy Toy.”_

* * *

 

You were still in a coma days later when Sam was reading through his notes. He had his laptop out and was doing online research while simultaneously making phone calls to other hunters, particularly Ash, who despite lacking the typical hunting status quo seemed to be his best asset to help you.

“Right, right…uh huh… is that possible?” Sam said in a hushed tone over the phone. He didn’t want to wake you up. He wasn’t exactly sure what to tell you if you woke up to find him there. He needed to be very careful how he worded things; make sure he didn’t fuck his stories up. It was a constant worry on his mind, atop everything else. He listened into the phone as Ash explained his findings. “Okay…okay, yeah… yeah I know it. Even have it memorized. You think it’s powerful enough? I’ve been using it for lower level demons… right…I don’t even know what Dragon is…”

_Dragon perked up at the sound of your little moniker. If the Winchester was talking about him, then it wasn’t anything good. He kept his ears more open._

“Alright, if you’re sure…it’s worth a try. Anything is worth a try at this point… but… uh huh… uh huh…what do I do when she wakes up?… okay… alright… Thanks Ash. I’ll be in touch…” Sam pressed the red button on his phone, hanging up the call.

He had everything now. Sam had all he needed (or could at least get for the time being) to get rid of Dragon once and for all. Little did he know, the demon who currently nested inside your mind was planning something much worse for you.


	27. Time To Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam decides to play along with your new identity, to gain her trust. It seems too easy when she accepts his story of you being his wife right away. When Sam’s guard is let down during a night of passionate sex, Dragon surfaces. But is Dragon prepared for what Sam has in store?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, IMPLIED SMUT, ANGST, DEATH
> 
> A/N: When writing this, I forgot most of this was suppose to be two separate chapters. Oops. So I’ve altered to so that they’re merged. So now they’re 30 chapters in total. Also, friendly reminder that these GIFs came from Tumblr and are not mine.

Another few days and you were out of the hospital, returning to work. Marv was a mother hen around you behind the counter, but you didn’t mind. His company was more than welcomed as far as you were concerned. You didn’t complain when he asked ten thousand times a day if you were okay, and made sure you knew to tell him if you started feeling ‘off’ again. It just felt good to be back in the game.

But the strange feelings of familiarity didn’t go away. In fact they grew stronger. Especially in the presence of this tall and handsome stranger who kept telling you he was your husband. He gave you your “wedding ring” and went on about how you were missing for months before he found you at the hospital. It warmed your heart that he stayed by your bedside the entire time. When you woke up though he was gone, and he wasn’t anywhere in sight when you were given a clean bill of health and sent home. Marv was the one who came to pick you up. Marv stayed with you for two days “just as a precaution” in case you needed anything. But you were itching to get back to the coffee shop and start working. Marv apparently talked to your landlord and she went easy on the due date for the rent given your “recent illness.”

Two weeks after it all began, you were just starting your afternoon shift, wiping down tables, making sure each table had the necessary coffee condiments in order, pushing chairs in, when that tall man walked in the door. He was dressed in a plaid flannel, with a slim fitting V neck shirt underneath, faded jeans and a pair of slip on checkered Vans. He looked like most of the college crowd that walked through that door, but he was…different. He _felt_ different. Like his very essence and being radiated in a unique light. It was attractive. Maybe she could pull of this whole husband/wife story he told Marv.

“Afternoon, sir,” you said as he approached the counter. He smiled at you, like you were the sun who revolved around his universe.

“Good day to you, my love,” Sam held out his hand. You gave it to him and he brushed your knuckles with his lips tenderly, kissing them. You blushed, your heart wild with feverish beats.

“What can we get started for you today?” you asked, pulling out a cup and a marker to make notes on.

“Nothing. I actually wanted to talk to you.”

You froze, then looked up at him. His eyes looked into yours with such intensity you were certain he could see whatever was in the deepest depths of your soul. It sent a chill down your spine. Your heart maintained its rapid speed.

“W-well, I close tonight,” you said looking down. If you kept looking him in the eyes you were certain you were gonna pass out.

“I can wait.”

“Wait, you’re gonna sit here in the shop and wait-” you looked at the clock and noticed you were only 20 minutes into your 4-10pm shift, “- just under 6 hours for me to get off because you wanna talk?”

“If you don’t mind,” Sam smiled.

You regarded him with a suspicious look.

_“Let him hang around. It won’t hurt anything.”_

You always knew your thoughts were a little screwy, but the fact that you didn’t think with your own voice seemed kinda odd. It almost felt like they weren’t your thoughts, but you didn’t question it. Trying to fit in meant keeping shit like that to yourself.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind the view,” you winked at Sam, making him smile more and it deepened the depth of his dimples. You practically melted at the sight. _Wow he has such a gorgeous smile. I must be very lucky if I’m his wife…_

* * *

Your shift came and went, as it was a slow day. You tended to pass the time more when less people came in. You didn’t mind as it gave you time to reorganize the shop the way you wanted to; in a way that would make things easier for everyone who worked and shopped there, not just yourself. Sam just sat at the corner table by the window, occasionally pulling out a small tablet. You figured he was the reading type so you imagined him reading nonfiction books or maybe medical journal studies. He did say he was a doctor. You wondered what he specialized in. When you clocked out, you made your way over to him.

“Um, my apartment isn’t too far from here. We can talk there.”

“Okay sounds great, but before we go, are you hungry?” Sam asked.

“Actually yeah, I am. But I can make food at my place. I just went grocery shopping the other day.”

“Great, let’s go,” Sam made his way to the door and you followed.

The two of you made your way back to your apartment. It was only a 3 block walk, but you and Sam spent it in silence. Sam wanted to talk with you, but didn’t really know what to say. He spent so much time tracking you, determined to find you, and now that you were here, he was at a loss for words.

But what surprised Sam more was the fact that you were so willing to accept his story. Did you really believe him? Or were you bluffing? And where the hell was Dragon in all this? Was he allowing you to accept his wife story? Or did he have your memories locked away somehow? Sam had a feeling this was all a trap. But there was no turning back now. He’d already told you everything he was willing to say to gain your trust. And you told him you believed him. He wasn’t willing to question it as he’d hoped that would be the case, but it still gave him an uneasy feeling.

You lived on the 2nd floor of your apartment building. You managed to find a nice studio apartment that was relatively inexpensive considering it was so close to Stanford’s main campus. With Marv’s help you had it minimally furnished; just enough to get you by. You didn’t need a whole lot of stuff in life anyway.  You weren’t very materialistic.

Sam went in and say on your couch while you decided to toss some frozen chicken patties in the oven. Marv had to teach you how to use all the appliances in the kitchen. You weren’t too fond of cooking or kitchen duties in general, but again you managed.

“Sorry I’m not the greatest cook. All I have are frozen meals. I mostly eat TV dinners when I’m home.”

“Hey I’m not a picky eater. Whatever you have to offer I’ll graciously accept.”

“I guess that’s why you’re so tall,” you mused.

“Nah that’s just genetics,” Sam chuckled.

You finished making dinner then made a plate for the two of you. While the patties were cooking you threw some green beans in the microwave and mixed up some instant mashed potatoes. You felt like a slob serving such mediocre food to Sam, but he insisted it was okay, so you pushed the thoughts out of your mind. You brought him a plate and a beer and sat next to him on your couch to eat yourself as you didn’t have a dining room table. Or a dining room.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, aside from the chewing sounds you made. After you were done, you took the plates and tossed them in the sink, swearing to yourself you would do the dishes later.

Sam turned to you. “So…about why I’m here.”

“You said you’d been looking for me. For a long time.”

Sam brushed his fingers gently across your cheek. It sent a shiver up your spinal cord, feeling yourself build up with lust.

_“Showtime.”_

“I’ve missed you so much,” Sam whispered, his voice oozing with sexual desire.

“I’ve missed you too, Doctor.”

“Wha-”

Before Sam could say anything more, you were on him. Your lips crashed into his, and he let himself go in the moment. You and Sam were ripping your clothes off each other, Sam tearing your blouse off, trying to gain access to your bra clasps, you were clawing at his shirt, begging him to show off his toned body. Having succeeded in taking your bra off, Sam’s hands were making their way down towards your pants zipper, trying to unzip them without breaking his lip contact with you. You were doing the same thing, feeling just how hard he was below the belt.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, his breath coming in short pants.

“You look like you’re ready for me,” you replied, biting at his neck. Sam let out a low moan in response.

The two of you fucked each other for hours on end, like horny teenagers who just discovered what their reproductive organs could do. Sam ate you out, you sucked his cock. Orgasm after orgasm was achieved with every sex position you could think of. But you thought your favorite was the doggy style one. After the two of you were spent, physically and sexually, you and Sam didn’t bother to clean yourselves up. You just laid on the couch together. Sam pulled a blanket over you two. You were laying on top of him, his arms around you. You could feel his pounding heartbeat slowly coming back down to a normal resting rate. It was exhilarating.

_It’s like I’ve known him all my life._

_You have._

_What? Who are you?_

_You don’t remember me?_

_No…._

_You will._

For a split second, you thought you’d fallen asleep. But you felt…different.

“Sam?” you whispered into his broad chest.

“Yes, my love?” he responded sleepily.

“I, um, I’m gonna go get changed.”

Before Sam could say anything, you disappeared into your room and closed the door behind you. You started shaking, feeling queasy, your heart racing. You looked in the mirror. You saw someone…some _thing_ behind you. A shadow. The shadow of what looked like a deformed man.

“Hello Y/N.”

Then everything went black.

* * *

Sam was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard you scream a horrible high pitched screech from your room. He did his best to throw his boxers and pants back on and made a mad dash towards where the sound was emanating. He kicked open your door, and what he saw shocked him.

Your eyes were the same pitch black they were the day you killed Dean. You were still naked so Sam guessed you hadn’t had a chance to get dressed yet. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for.

“Well if it isn’t Doctor Boy Toy! I’d say nice to see you again if I didn’t want to rip your heart out with Y/N’s teeth.”

“Dragon,” Sam said through clenched teeth. His fists were involuntarily balling up.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for some time now. The final step of my plan.”

“WHAT PLAN?!” Sam bellowed. “WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE?! TELL ME!!”

“Oh son,” Dragon said through you, “I’m just doing my job. A job I’ve been doing long before dinosaurs walked this fetid planet.”

Sam couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. But he knew it was time to act. “ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus-_ ”

“NO!”

You threw your hand, palm extended, out towards Sam, and he flew across the room, landing against the wall. You twisted your fingers in such a way then spoke an incantation.

 _“L_ _ingua tua quasi mutus_ _”_ your words made the air shift, and suddenly Sam couldn’t speak.

Or breathe.

“I have to say, I had no hope for Y/N when I was first given her case. But I was patient. I was sympathetic even. Because I knew she would be the best job I would’ve ever received. And I was right. She never wavered, always giving into me. And now, my work here is done. Y/N Y/L/N, you will pay for your transgressions in more ways than any human could make you!”

Dragon made you extend your arms out to your sides. _“_ _Excita in veritate_ _”_

In a whirlwind of visions and emotions, your entire life flashed before your eyes.

Your horrible childhood.

The fire at the supermarket.

Your boss burning alive in his office.

You murdering your parents and little brothers.

Being locked up at Mandrel.

Meeting Sam.

Fucking Sam.

Burning Mandrel and everyone in it.

Attacking Sam.

Burning down Addison.

Killing Dean.

Landing in Palo Alto.

It was like someone was throwing softballs directly at your face. The pain, the agony, it consumed you.

Once Dragon realized you knew the truth of all you did, he smoked out. Sam was released while smoke poured out from your mouth, screams filling the air. Sam massaged his throat, taking in deep lung fulls of air. All Sam could do was watch. The smoke didn’t disappear like any other exorcism he’d done on the road. This one’s essence took the form of a man. One who looked like he’d been run over several times by a Mack truck. Two red glowing orbs opened up where the eyes would be and made direct eye contact with Sam, damn near stopping his racing heart.

“Have fun cleaning up this mess,” Dragon gestured over towards you, who was wide eyes with panic.

Then, Dragon disappeared. For good this time.

* * *

You were terrified, looking all around to make sure your surrounds were real. You saw Sam crouched over on the ground, but you were afraid if you went over to him he would flee.

You did it. _All_ of it.

Your parents.

Your baby brothers.

_Dean._

Everyone who had ever crossed paths with you was either dead or destined to die.

You looked at Sam once more. And you screamed.

You ran out of your room and into the kitchen, Sam hot on your heels.

“Y/N WAIT!”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

“LET ME HELP YOU! IT’S WHY I’M HERE! YOU KNOW THAT!”

“I SAID STAY AWAY. YOU’LL ONLY DIE!”

“NO I WON’T! Y/N, PLEASE BABY! TALK TO ME!”

“NOOOO!!!”

Before Sam could react to you holding a big kitchen knife, you plunged it straight into the center of your chest. You let out a bellowing scream of pain and collapsed.

But you didn’t hit the floor. Sam caught you just in time.

Before you could say anything, apologize for everything, for the first time in your entire life, you prayed. Prayed that wherever the after was for you, it would bring you, and Sam peace.

Then for the 2nd time that day, everything went blank.


	28. Names Aren’t Of Import

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon tells his side of the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: DESCRIPTION OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE
> 
> Purely Dragon’s POV. I’ve gotten a lot of questions about Dragon and the particulars of his origins on Tumblr. This chapter is dedicated to you curious brain pickers out there. Also includes some back story to Dragon’s involvement with the reader and Sam :)

_At the time of Lucifer’s cast down from Heaven, it was not suspected what he was going to do._

_But oh, did he make the Underworld a glorious one._

_The anger and hatred and rage that stemmed from God’s and his older brother Michael’s actions fueled his design in how Hell was supposed to be._

_He chose many entities to do certain jobs. The Knights of Hell had their job, then they were ranks right below them, then there were regular joe-blow minion demons._

_Then they were things like me._

_I was still a minion. Still had a soul collecting job like most of my kind. Then Lucifer decided that he’d had enough of humanity flaunting itself like it was the greatest of God’s creation. He wanted to play a game with his Father’s favorite toys. A game that would ultimately rid the world of pathetic weak humans._

_And for that job, he chose me._

_I was created from Lucifer’s own demonic essence. For each demon that he created, he broke off a few atoms from his own entity, sowed a seed of pure unadulterated evil, and breathed life into us. It was an honor. I wasn’t given a name when I was created. None of us were. But I was given a purpose. A grand purpose. One from the brilliant mind of Lucifer himself. And I intended to fulfill that job._

_I first started scouring the Earth for humans that appeared to be weak. But that was easier said than done. Plenty of people appeared to be strong on the outside. It was a good deceptive tactic that I was sure played into human’s demonic side. Each human had a good and evil conscious within them._

_So instead I observed humanity. I would hide in the shadows, and just watch them._

_I spent a good century just observing and learning the ways of humanity. How they were created, how they evolved, how they mated, how they…existed._

_One thing that was interesting was how they acquired illness. And plenty of these humans acquired illness that was completely invisible. Either by being born with it or by personal trauma. It was deliciously fascinating. Then it occurred to me how I could carry out my duties._

_So I waited. I knew all the warning signs for these internal mental illnesses. None of them had names at this time in history. And almost all of them were cast out by their fellows when they displayed their ill tendencies. It was almost too easy._

_The very first case I took on was just a baby. A little boy who would be tossed out on his head by his father for being “abnormal.” I first posed as an elderly traveling wanderer. I approached the little babe and picked him up, shouting curses at his father for being so “cold hearted” to a babe. I walked away, the swaddled bub in my arms. As soon as we were out of sight from the village, I placed the palm of my hand upon his forehead and healed whatever internal injuries he’d sustained during the fall. But it didn’t take away the deficiency he was born with. I found it hilariously ironic that his parents decided he was unworthy of being a member of his family when it was completely their fault for him being the degenerate he was._

_I knew I couldn’t just leave him alone. So I decided to raise him. And that gave me the best advantage on how to wipe him out._

_After the boy was grown, I seeped into his mind. Once I got comfortable with my surroundings, I got to work. By the time I was done with him, he’d burned down several villages, including the ones he’d been born in, taking every villager occupant with it. By the time he was caught for his crimes, he’d hung himself. Then, I left his being and moved on._

_Fast forward several hundred years, I had plenty of tenure to train others to continue my work. I had a few apprentices. Some were good, some were not. I was given permission to…dispose of the non-compliant apprentices as I saw fit. That led to the discovery of some very interesting torture techniques._

_After another hundred years of training, advocating, and sponsoring lesser demons to continue my work, I made it clear that that part of my time on this assignment was over. Nobody questioned me._

_So I went about my business. Finding someone suffering from mental illness, nest myself in their mind, slowly twist them into demented evil being, then make sure they take themselves out before anyone got suspicious. It earned me a lot of respect downstairs. It was something I was proud of._

_But then, a little girl came along. I caught wind of her birth by way of some of the hospital staff, who were trained to go undercover to find my next case by me personally. They knew right away when she was born that she was destined to be a case that would be my legacy._

_Her mother and father named her Y/N Y/M/N/ Y/L/N._

* * *

_I did what I always did with my cases, especially when they were babies. I nestled in their mind, wait until their cognizant enough to recognize that they’re not alone in their thoughts, then slowly earn their trust. But it wasn’t until Y/N was about 6 years old when I decided to do things differently. I knew it was a huge risk, especially if it didn’t work out. But if it did, oh boy would the rewards be plentiful._

_By the time Y/N was 12 she was regularly getting in trouble. Small stuff, but enough to get peoples’ attention that she wasn’t right in the head. Her teenage years were harder on her. She couldn’t keep up in school and she was regularly ditching class to go sell drugs on the streets. I was almost discovered when her father threatened to send her to military school and Y/N agreed to shape up, but that eventually blew over. I couldn’t allow myself to be revealed just yet.  I waited until after she graduated from high school. After the few stents in a mental institute. After she truly believed she had some normalcy in her life._

_One thing led to another and next thing I knew she was on her way to a hole-in-the-wall mental asylum in Kansas for murdering her entire family. The word has spread downstairs about my work with Y/N. Rumor had it that even Lucifer had acknowledged my accomplishments. I knew that she would make me great._

_That was, until Sam Winchester walked into her life._

_The walking talking psychiatrist stereotype was smart, I’ll give him that. But he was a big threat. Bigger than I’d ever imagined, more disastrous than I could’ve ever prepared for. I knew I’d have to be strategic with this one. No more careless actions that led to more costly consequences._

_I didn’t start to rearrange my thought process until after Y/N killed the Winchester brother. I made sure that the boy would find her where he had history. Yet again, it was a risky move, but one that was necessary if I was going to close this case._

_What I didn’t expect was for him to know the Rituale Romanum. By heart. He was absolutely determined to save Y/N at any cost. Apparently trying to kill him didn’t slow him down. It only made him stronger, faster, smarter. A real downside to my plans._

_That was another thing I observed about humanity. Their ability to love. And the crazy shit they will pursue in the name of love. When a human loves another, they will sacrifice their own mortality to keep their loved ones safe. I have heard the most interesting stories from our Crossroadies (which is what I like to call them, heh) where humans would sell their souls just to save their loved one’s lives._

_Sam Winchester was exactly that kind of human. And so much more. I was wrong to underestimate him._

_After Sam fucked Y/N silly, I knew it was time to take over. I wanted Sam to witness me and my best. It wasn’t until he started to speak the Rituale Romanum that I knew I had to act quickly, lest my work be ruined. If he had completed it, I would’ve been sent back to Hell. And everything I had worked so hard for would be ruined, stripped from me._

_I would cease to exist._

_But it didn’t matter. Word had already spread. The great “Dragon”, as Y/N called me, was bested by a fucking hunter. An inexperienced hunter, no less. I would be a laughing stock for the rest of time. I knew I couldn’t return to my duty with this shame staining my existence. And there was no telling what the Winchester would do if he ever saw me again. The amount of time that passed between Y/N killing his brother and now wasn’t all that much but he already knew about as much as a seasoned veteran in the hunting business. So I smoked out, leaving him to clean up the mess._

_The only solace of abandoning my post was catching a glimpse of Y/N stabbing herself in the heart as Sam watched._


	29. Time of End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam rushes you to the nearest hospital, praying to any deity in the universe that you can be saved in time. Will it be enough? And what aftermath will come of it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST LEVEL 9000, SUICIDE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE, AGE DISCRIMINATION, HOSPITALS, SOME FLUFF ACTION, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

Sam didn’t bother calling 911. He knew with your injury, it would take too long for an ambulance to show up. And your mortal wound was becoming more fatal by the millisecond. You’d be dead before he could hear the sirens down the street.

Sam left the knife plunged in your heart and wrapped you up in a sheet and hauled ass with you in his arms to his car. He opened the passenger side door and slid in, not letting go of his deathgrip on you. He was fortunate there was nobody on the streets that could see how much of a mess he had on him. He drove as fast as his Charger could take you to the nearest hospital, which for this situation unfortunately was an urgent care center on Stanford’s campus. He knew they were gonna have to transfer you back to Redwood City Medical Center, which was a half hour away, but he was hoping that the urgent care place could at least stabilize you beforehand. You were lying in his lap as he drove.

He didn’t bother parking. He just double parked in front of a fire hydrant and dragged you inside. Sam walked through the front doors and before he could even shout for help, every other medical professional in the building swarmed him.

“Sir, what happened?” one called out.

“She tried to kill herself! Stabbed in the heart! Please don’t let her die!” Sam cried out.

“This way,” another gestured towards the back. Sam immediately followed.

It wasn’t all that busy at this place so everybody who was working there were suddenly working on you. Sam knew they didn’t have all that was required to keep you alive, but what they did have was enough. He had a feeling they might just send you straight to the surgical center at Stanford Medical Center.

“Sir, you need to wait out there.”

Sam didn’t argue. He knew him being in the room while they worked on you wasn’t going to help anyone. So he sauntered out to the waiting room, past the chairs, and outside to smoke a cigarette.

He lit it, took a deep drag, then pondered all that had happened in the last 12 hours.

**_You won, you slimy son of a bitch. Are you happy that you finally got your way? You just had to drag it out, didn’t you? If you wanted to kill her, you should’ve done it out right. At least before I had the chance to meet her. I hope you’re fucking happy with yourself._ **

**_Dean…_ **

He looked to the sky, the moonlight reflecting off the his tear soaked face.

**_If you’re up there, and you’re listening…don’t let her in. For the love of God, don’t let her get up there. Otherwise I’ll have no choice but to join her. I’m not ready to go just yet. I’m only 23. And Y/N is younger than that! Whatever you do, however you gotta do it, I don’t care what kind of strings you gotta pull, do not let her past those goddamn pearly gates._ **

Sam threw the butt of his cigarette into the street and lit another one. He knew all this smoking was gonna make him sick sooner or later, but if you didn’t make it, he would prefer the cancer sticks would hurry up and end his life too. A world without you wasn’t one he could stand to live in.

* * *

Two hours passed before someone called him back.

“Would the kin of Y/L/N please come forward.”

Sam stood up, slightly dizzy from the half a pack of cigarettes he smoked while waiting.

“I’m the one who brought her here.”

The doctor, who was old, balding, and appear to have no tolerance for bullshit of any kind, eyed him warily.

“What is your relation to the patient?”

“I’m her husband.”

“You look a little young to be married, boy.”

“Stow your crap, dickbag. I didn’t come here to be judged by my age. Did you save my wife or not?” Sam’s tone shocked the old man. He feared the doctor would do something in retaliation, but he just hummed what sounded like approval. _Fucking asshole. Y/N is dying and he’s wants to tell us we’re too young to be married. If we were…_

“Fair enough,” the doctor said. He gestured for Sam to follow him. When they got to the room you were in, Sam’s heart dropped down to his knees. Your chest was covered in bandages and the knife was still sticking out. You were intubated and from the looks of it, sedated. Sam was thankful.

“I’m not sure what deity you’ve been praying to, but this girl is damn lucky to be alive.”

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, though he knew you weren’t out of the woods yet.

The doctor went on. “We did X-rays and manage to get a portable CT scanner in here to see what damage the blade may have done. It somehow missed her heart and lungs. But if we were to remove it here, she would most likely bleed to death. She needs surgery to remove it.”

“I understand,” Sam said in a low voice. “I’m assuming you’ve already called a transport unit to take her to either Stanford MC or Redwood City? Which one did you call report to?”

“For a young buck you sure know you’re medical jargon.”

Sam decided to let his credentials shut this fucker’s mouth. He pulled out his wallet and presented the doctor with his own MD license out of Kansas. The doctor’s jaw dropped.

“Call me a young buck again, disrespect me or my wife in any form once more, and I’ll have the board on your ass so fast for age discrimination you’ll think you’ve been cremated alive.” Sam glared at him with his best death glare, and for the first time, the doctor was afraid to say anything at all.

The doctor cleared his throat. Apparently he wasn’t used to being told off. “It is my professional opinion that she be taken to Redwood City. Stanford is closer but Redwood has a better handle on emergency surgical interventions.”

“Have you stabilized her enough to compensate for the longer transport time?” Sam asked, not taking his eyes of your comatose form.

“We’ve done everything a small urgent care center can,” the doctor said, trying to maintain a professional demeanor. Sam ventured a guess that he was not the first person this doctor had discriminated against and a call to the board would probably end his career. But he knew he wasn’t coming back here once you were taken by ambulance. Another clear of his throat and the doctor spoke again. “I’m gonna go make the necessary calls. I’ll have some paperwork for you to sign once I’m done.”

“That’ll do just fine,” Sam said, making his way into your room. You had every machine attached to your person as physically possible. If Sam wasn’t a doctor, he knew he would be overwhelmed. He gave everything his own personal check to make sure everything was in working order. After speaking with that degenerate who called himself a doctor, and the fact that urgent care center didn’t typically handle cases like this, his confidence that they’d done their job right was pretty much lost.

“You’re gonna be just fine baby,” Sam whispered into your ear, praying you could hear him. Then he kissed your forehead carefully, “you’re free now.”

* * *

After all was said and done at the urgent care place, Sam was hauling ass as fast as he could behind the emergency-traffic-running ambulance that had his precious cargo in the back without tailgating. The last thing he needed was a ticket. The orders from Redwood City were to bring you straight to the surgical unit so they could immediately prep you.

That surgery ended up taking about 6 hours. Sam was starting to worry if you were gonna pull through. He was assured by a nurse who frequently went in the operating room to get a status update for him that everything was going as expected, but Sam was still nervous. Three hours into the surgery he’d run out of cigarettes so he was left as a trembling mess in the waiting room.

After what felt like a fucking eternity, the doctor who performed the surgery came out to greet Sam, who was passed out in a makeshift bed he’d pulled together from various chairs in the waiting room. Given how tall he was, it wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would do.

The doctor tapped Sam on the shoulder to wake him up. Sam groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Are you Y/N Winchester’s husband?”

“Yeah,” Sam said sleepily, extending his hand for the surgeon to shake. “I’m Sam.”

“Dr. Michaelson, I’m the one who worked on your wife.”

“How is she?”

“Someone is definitely watching over her from above. The surgery went well. She had some bleeding once the blade was removed, but it was managed. She’s being taken to the SICU and will remain there for the next 24 hours. She’s still heavily sedated and that’s for her own protection. I understand this was an attempted suicide?”

Sam swallowed hard. Time to come clean. “Yes, sir. I knew she was struggling with depression bad, but I never expected her to do that, let alone in front of me. I’m a doctor too. She should’ve known what I would’ve done.”

“Well, in light of that. Once she’s fully recovered, she’s most likely gonna have to be taken to a mental health facility for additional behavioral treatment.”

Sam didn’t even think about that. And he knew how you would react. You’d try to run. But one problem at a time. They had to ensure you’d actually wake up.

* * *

It took about a week but you were slowly weaned off the ventilator and sedation medication and you came too. This was the first time in the history of Sam knowing you that it was _you._ No demon monster inside your mind, no more risk of you doing something homicidally drastic in the name of said demon. For the first time, Sam was going to get a chance to know you. The _real_ you. And Sam was extremely excited about it.

But before he could do that, he had to break the news to you.

“They wanna what?!” You almost shouted out.

“I know,” Sam said.

“But, I don’t understand. If Dragon really is gone, then I don’t need to be there anymore, right? You were my doctor. You know me better than anyone. Can they do that?”

“Well considering you’re here under a false name, they aren’t aware of your past. Probably a good thing too. You’d have a lot more to worry about. But technically, they can have you committed against your will if they believe you’re truly a danger to yourself or others. And given how California’s laws are structured, there isn’t a judge here who won’t disagree, given the proper evidence.”

“What are we gonna do Sam?” You leaned back into your hospital bed, toying with the IV tubing attached to your hand. “By the way, whatever happened to Dragon? Do you think he’s really gone?”

Sam sat back in his own chair, wondering how to answer that. He thought back to that night and what Dragon said to him.

_“I’ve been waiting for this moment for some time now. The final step of my plan.”_

_“WHAT PLAN?!” Sam bellowed. “WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE?! TELL ME!!”_

_“Oh son,” Dragon said through you, “I’m just doing my job. A job I’ve been doing long before dinosaurs walked this fetid planet.”_

Sam decided you were stable enough to hear everything. Given you were possessed and how Dragon did things, Sam was certain you didn’t remember anything after the two of you had sex. You listened intently, taking in every word Sam said, and waited until he was done to think about it.

After you processed it, you smiled.

“He’s really gone,” you breathed.

“What makes you say that?” Sam asked.

“Dragon used to tell me that his ‘job’ was to ‘help poor souls’ like me. But deep down I always knew it was a lie. He was there for one reason and that was to kill me. I’ll never understand why he didn’t just kill me out right if that’s what he really wanted, but at this point, I no longer care. For the first time in my life, my thoughts are my own. My life is my own. And I can do whatever I want with it.”

“That would be the case if you weren’t a wanted felon on the run. I’m sure every law enforcement agency in the Midwest is looking for you right now.”

“That’s true,” you said. You looked Sam in the eyes. He smiled at you. And you remembered the reasons why you fell in love with him. For the 4th or 5th time (you’d lost count at this point) Sam had saved your life.

Maybe this was meant to be…

* * *

It was just before dawn, and nurse Janie Richardson was walking down the hall, dragging a vital signs machine in her wake. She was tired, overworked, and thinking about quitting her job. But unfortunately she had two kids she was putting through college because their deadbeat dad didn’t find it necessary to help his children when they needed it. So working a dead end job as a nurse was her only option. Sure, it paid very well, and the money was making it easy to send two kids to UCLA, but nonetheless, she was burned out. She needed a vacation. Badly.

She went to knock on the door to the next room on her list. But no one answered.

“Hello?” she called out. Sometimes patients wanted some privacy, but there were no exceptions when the nurses came in the morning to check vitals before the doctors made their rounds. “This is Nurse Janie, I need to get your blood pressure.” Still no answer. She slowly pushed the door open. The sight she was greeted with caused her to gasp, and run back to the nurses’ station. She picked up the phone to dial your doctor.

“Sir, it’s Janie. Y/N Winchester is gone.”


	30. The Road From Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: FLUFF, MENTIONS OF SMUT, ANGST, FEELS BECAUSE IT’S THE END, SOME MORE FLANGST.
> 
> A/N: THIS IS IT! THE FINAL CHAPTER. I want to thank every one of you who’s stuck with this story one last time. Though the adventure of Dr. Sam Winchester and the Reader have come to a close, fear not. I have many more ideas for stories that will be equally as good! I love you all. The picture is the banner my girlfriend made for the master list I have on Tumblr. Enjoy! And thanks for reading.

_The sight she was greeted with caused her to gasp, and run back to the nurses’ station. She picked up the phone to dial your doctor._

_“Sir, it’s Janie. Y/N Winchester is gone.”_

* * *

 

**_Two Months Later_ **

The road had led you and Sam down some interesting places. You were in the passenger seat of Sam’s Charger, which was sporting new license plates out of Texas rather than the Kansas ones he originally had on it. Sam had also given the Charger a new paint job. Instead of the sleek black that resembled his father’s 1967 Chevy Impala, it was now bright apple red, with two black racing stripes down the center from bumper to bumper. The truck had been outfitted with a false bottom that hid away several types of weapons. Everything from guns of all kinds, ammo, machetes, and Japanese katanas to Holy water, large canteens of salt and a red 10 gallon tank of gas, it was all they would ever need to continue being hunters. You were staring out the window as Sam drove, pondering how you got here.

Sam and you decided that you weren’t going back to any facility as long as you were still alive. Since Dragon’s departure (which neither of you were crying over) you had no intention of killing an innocent person again. Sam decided to do his own psychological evaluation to determine you were sound of mind. And he couldn’t have been happier to see that you were. For the first time ever, you were free of your lifelong torment. So in the middle of the night, Sam went to a local store and bought you some clothes to change out of the hospital garb. He expertly disconnected you from your all your monitoring equipment and killed the heart monitor so it wouldn’t sound off any alarms at the nurses’ station. He went as far as to check your vital signs to make sure you wouldn’t suffer from any adverse effects of leaving too soon. He made sure the bandage on your chest was clean too. You were healing nicely. Like you’d never tried to kill yourself to begin with. Then, once the coast was clear, the two of you snuck around what crappy security they had and bolted into the night towards Sam’s car.

It wasn’t safe for you to stay in California any longer. And Sam couldn’t go back to Kansas either, let alone bring you back. So you spent the next day driving. Sam decided to stop in central Nebraska. He introduced you to Ellen and Ash and Jo and every other hunter there who’d helped him find you.

You were elated to meet others in the hunting community. And like they did with Sam, they were patient and kind in passing their knowledge onto you. The two of you stayed in the same room that Sam stayed in before going on his mission to find you and the two of you talked. About everything.

The next day, Sam and you went down to find Ellen and Jo and gave them the good news.

A week later, the two of you were exchanging your vows. Neither of you were dressed formally for this as it wasn’t necessary. A hunter who marries another hunter can’t afford such luxuries. But the two of you did want to make it official. On your marriage license, it did say Samuel William and Y/N Y/M/N Winchester, but any other identification you would carry would have a multitude of aliases.

The honeymoon consisted of getting piss blind drunk at the Roadhouse along all your new friends and you and Sam fucking each other like horny hungry apes until the sun came up. The day was filled with you two sleeping off the booze and sex. The next night, Ellen caught wind of a possible Rugaru case in upstate New York. Sam and you agreed to look into it, and the following morning, you exchanged phone numbers with everyone and set out on your new life.

* * *

The drive to New York made Sam think of making a very risky pit stop.

“Whatcha thinking about babe?” you asked, munching on some bagged popcorn.

Sam took a breath before answering. “How would you feel about making a slight detour.”

“That depends,” you said swallowing a mouthful, taking a sip of your Slurpee. “Where did you have in mind?”

“Lawrence.”

You damn near spit your drink out. “Uhhhh, need I remind you why we’ve been avoiding there to begin with, dear husband…”

“I know, I know it’s a huge risk, but…I feel there’s something I need to do there. Make peace with the past.”

“I thought we did that already, hon,” you said, crumbling up the popcorn bag and tossing it in the backseat.

“Yeah but…I feel like it needs to be official.”

“If that’s what you wanna do, I’ll support you,” you sighed. You had a feeling it wasn’t going to end well, but Sam wasn’t one to act irrationally or on an impulse. It was clear to you that he’d thought about this.

Little did you know, Sam was acting on an impulse. And he just hoped nobody took notice of you two.

Sam took your hand into his and kissed the back of it. “Thanks baby. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied. “But if I end up in jail because someone spotted us, you’re breaking me out.”

Sam threw his head back and laughed.

* * *

You honestly believed that because Sam had his car physically altered, nobody recognized the two of you rolling through Lawrence Kansas on a cold and dreary afternoon. It was Sunday so hardly anyone was out and about. You talked Sam into taking a tour of all the old places. Sam was reluctant, but you told him it was your way of making peace with your past, therefore he didn’t put up a fight. Your first stop was where Mandrel used to stand.

The wreckage from the fire had been cleared out, and in its footprint stood a stone memorial with a large brass looking plaque on it. It went into detail about who all died and the history of Mandrel.

Sam parked the Charger as close to the sight as he could without it being suspicious. You two walked up to the memorial, hand in hand, and you came face to face with the consequences of your actions.

But the logical part of your brain knew it wasn’t you who set fire to the place. It was Dragon. You and Sam were still holding hands, staring at the memorial in silence. You looked at each name individually, and your heart broke with each name you read.

Sam noticed you tensing up, and rubbed your back.

“This wasn’t your fault. None of this was.”

You took a deep breath and looked at him. “I know. But I still had to come here and pay my respects. Each person on this plaque would still be alive if I never came here. And therefore…I will always carry some of the guilt deep inside forever.”

You were glad that winter had hit the Midwest earlier than the rest of the country. That made concealing your faces a lot easier. You and Sam were bundled up in heavy coats, gloves, scarves, and beanies. Ever since Dragon left you, your eyes had become very sensitive to light for whatever reason, so you were sporting a pair of sunglasses.

The two of you stood in silence for a few more minutes before Sam gently guided you back to the car. You already knew where the next and final stop was gonna be, so it surprised you when he pulled into a suburban neighborhood. In particular, in front of a plain looking two story house.

Sam could see that the window blinds were open in the front. He was brought to tears of joy when he saw the couple in there, laughing and moving fluidly around one another in preparation for dinner.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“My house.”

“Wait, this is where you lived?”

“I grew up in that house,” Sam said, trying to keep his emotions in check. “Those are my parents.”

You reveled in that information for a moment. You’d never been outside the walls of Mandrel when Sam was taking care of you, so you never knew where he lived. You suddenly felt bad for taking that away from him.

“Why don’t you go up there and say hi? Surely they’ve missed you.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say, babe.”

“Not really,” Sam took a deep breath. “I chose what they described as a ‘psychotic murderer’ over my own family. They kicked me out after Dean’s funeral. After I told them I was going to go find you.”

You were about to say something that you might regret, but Sam turned to face you, cupping your face in his loving hands.

“And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. You’re worth it.”

That stopped any feelings of guilt you’d had rising up within you. Sam realized it was getting dark so he turned the car back on and he left his childhood home in the rearview mirror. For good this time.

* * *

You decided to give Sam some time to himself for this last stop, so you waited in the car. You knew he was going to need the alone time.

Sam was sitting on the ground in front of Dean’s makeshift grave. He knew his brother wasn’t really buried here, but it was the closest thing he had to coming and paying his final respects in person.

He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, smoking a cigarette.

About a half hour passed before Sam realized it was dusk. If you two didn’t get out of here before the night patrol came around, it was over. And he was certain his father was one of Lawrence’s finest who kept watched over the dearly departed. That was not the way he ever wanted to return to his father. Especially since Sam was sure John blamed him for Dean’s death.

Sam stomped out his cigarette, but before he turned to leave, he took one last good look at the headstone.

**_Dean Michael Winchester_ **

**_Loving Son & Brother_ **

**_Jan 24, 1979 ~ Aug 1, 2006_ **

**_Forever Loved & Missed_ **

“Thank you, brother.”

And with that, Sam headed back towards his wife to leave Kansas. You and Sam made an agreement never take on any cases that were in Kansas.

* * *

The Rugaru case in Syracuse turned out to be just that. The two of you took care of it, then stumbled back into the motel, bloody and tired. You got your arm cut in the process of taking it down, so the first thing Sam did was tend to your wound.

“For someone who specializes in forensic psychology, you’re pretty efficient with sutures,” you said with a laugh and a wince, downing another mouthful of whisky, the burning sensation sliding down your throat taking your mind off the pain.

“You know, they do teach us to be doctors before anything else, Y/N,” Sam said with his own chuckle. He cut off the last suture and you passed the bottle to him. He downed a shot sized mouthful of his own, then grabbed the antiseptic bottle and dowsed the stitches with it. You yelped at the pain but managed to keep yourself from shouting too loudly. Then Sam wiped some Lidocaine gel on it and wrapped it in gauze. Most of the pain would be gone within the hour.

Sam and you showered together, then changed into pajamas and climbed into bed together.

You had your head on his chest and he had his arm wrapped around you. The sound of his heartbeat was your nighttime lullaby on nights after a rough hunt.

After a time of silence, you had to say it. “Can you believe this is where we are now?”

“What do you mean?” he said in the dark, sleepiness evident in his voice.

“Over a year ago, I was locked away in an asylum with no hope of ever getting out. Then you waltz in there with the affirmation that you could save me. And I thought I was the insane one! But you did. You really saved me. And that’s a debt I can never ever repay.”

“Oh you did repay it, my love. You made me the happiest man alive by marrying me,” Sam said with a smile.

“I never saw myself as the marrying type. I’m glad I was wrong.”

“I guess you weren’t too insane for me after all,” Sam said. He leaned over to kiss your head, and you snuggled into his chest more. You pondered over his words. And it felt like nothing in this world could be any more true.

“No,” you breathed. “I guess not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Thanks again for reading! I live for your kudos and comments, btw xx

**Author's Note:**

> After much deliberation I've decided to transfer this series I've been working on for the last few months over to AOX3. I'm 23 chapters in and I have no idea when I'll be done. It's gonna get dark and some of y'all might hate me for it but if you aren't triggered easily I think y'all might enjoy it. It's been highly praised on Tumblr. Let me know what y'all think!


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